Need for Speed
by August08
Summary: After an accident that nearly killed him, Leo swore he would never race. But, when he's taken to an island where the name of the game is speed, he learns that race cars aren't the only things that can kill...it can also be the people closest to you. AU.
1. Leonardo Summers

**A/N**: This was inspired by all the racing games I've played or have seen someone else play (Need for Speed, Burnout, etc). For this story, the guys are human.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any characters relating to Turtles. However, any and all mentioned OC's are mine.

* * *

There's a story told among the rebels of the road. A story told of a vast, man-made island built only for the toughest and most skilled street racers. Some say it's only a myth, while others claim to have known someone who had been taken to the island. However, with all dreams there are nightmares. Some ex-racers have claimed to have escaped the island, telling anyone who would listen of the horrors that fell up on those who lost one time too many. Other racers would brush them off and go about their lives, dreaming of the day when they would be chosen to go to every racer's paradise. But, for some, the dream never crossed their minds.

"Yo, Blue. Ya home?"

The garage echoed with a metallic *thud*. A hiss followed. A seventeen-year-old slammed the hood of his car down and rubbed his head. A couple of laughs and a high-pitched giggle made him turn around.

"The car get the better of ya, Blue?"

"Hey, Trek."

Leonardo Summers, also known as "Blue" by his friends, rubbed his head again and tossed the rag he was holding on to the work bench. He had earned the nickname "Blue" simply because it was his favorite color, and because it was the color of the fastest car in New York City, which he owned.

"How's the mistress?" Trek teased, referring to the car.

"She's fine, Trek," Leonardo answered, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

He spent more time improving his car than he did anything else. A few times his parents had threatened to take the car away from him if he didn't keep his grades up.

"Dude, you should just marry the car."

"That would be too extreme for him, Lyle," Leonardo's girlfriend, Natalia said.

"Bro, you've got the hottest and most wanted car in NYC. Why don't you show it off?" Lyle asked.

"I told you a hundred times, I'm not interested in street racing," Leonardo replied.

Trek opened the passenger side door and inspected the interior. "You make it sound like it's a crime. This car is so cool."

"It _is_ a crime," Leonardo told his friends. "It's illegal. You can get into serious trouble."

"Yeah," Lyle agreed. "If the cops can catch ya."

Trek and Natalia laughed. Leonardo shook his head. He headed inside. The others followed him. A number of times Leonardo had asked himself where he had managed to meet such a group of friends. They were noisy, rambunctious, rebellious, everything he wasn't. Then, he remembered the race car convention. He made the mistake of entering his car and that's when Trek, Lyle and Natalia came on the scene.

Leonardo opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water. He saw Trek shake his head out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" he asked, opening the bottle and taking a sip.

"When are ya gonna get some _real_ drink?" Trek wanted to know.

"You mean that crud _you_ drink? I'll stick with water," Leonardo said.

Natalia sat down at the table. "See, Trek? He _is_ a rebel," she put in.

Lyle rummaged through the fridge. "Where does your dad keep his supply?"

Leonardo looked down at his friend. "What supply?" Lyle swallowed hard. Leonardo narrowed his eyes. He grabbed Lyle's shirt and pulled him out of the fridge. "What supply?"

"Your dad always keeps a case in the fridge," Lyle said.

Leonardo searched the fridge again. If his father had any sort of alcoholic beverage in there he was calling the parole officer. A couple years ago, his father had been arrested for drinking and driving. What made it worse, was that Leonardo had been in the passenger's seat and didn't even know his father had been drinking. While looking for a CD, he had come across a few cans of beer. His father's driving had always been rough (being an ex-street racer and all), so he didn't read too much into it. However, the knowledge came too late and there was a serious accident.

Leonardo shook his head to push back the memory of that horrific night. He straightened and leaned against the door, his hand over his eyes. He could still hear the scream of the sirens, the sound of his mother yelling his name, the buzz of voices from the paramedics as they tried to keep him focused.

"Leo?"

Leonardo looked up. Trek, Lyle and Natalia were all giving him a worried look. He cleared his throat and closed the fridge door.

"Stick with water," he whispered as he made his way out of the kitchen.

* * *

When he came through the door, Brad Summers found his son sitting at the kitchen table, a six-pack of beer sitting in front of him. Leonardo took his eyes off the case and glared at his father.

"I should call the parole officer," he threatened. "You're not supposed to have it."

"And who are _you_ to tell _me_ what do to?" Brad snapped.

"Your son," Leonardo answered. "Or your first victim. You decide."

Brad walked over to the table and grabbed the case. He opened the fridge and shoved it in. Leonardo leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.

"Why did I chose to live with you?" he asked.

"You have a car, go to your mother's," Brad suggested.

"I would...if I knew where she went," Leonardo said.

"Chicago."

Leonardo gave his father an amuzed look. "She told you where she was going?"

Brad straightened and Leonardo could hear the sound of a can opening. He had stayed with his father because he thought he could help stop his father's drinking problem. He had been wrong.

"She told me for your benefit," Brad said, taking a swig of beer.

"Wouldn't it have been better if she told me herself?" Leonardo asked.

"Maybe," Brad replied, taking another drink.

Leonardo stood up and headed for the garage. He needed some air. Grabbing his car keys and jacket, Leonardo climbed into his car and slammed the door. He took a couple of seconds to calm himself before putting the key in the ignition and turning the car on. As soon as the garage door was up, the electric blue car was out on the streets.

* * *

What do you think? Worth continuing?

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	2. First Mistake

Nothing compared to the freedom a car could offer. It was even better when you had a car everyone wanted. There were a lot of great cars out there, but for some weird reason, people seemed to be drawn to the electric blue Ferrari that was cruising around the city.

Leonardo came to a red light. He had been driving around for the past hour and a half. The thought of putting up with a drunk father didn't appeal to him. He wasn't ready to go home just yet. Leonardo turned on the radio and began channel surfing when another supped up car pulled up beside him. The driver honked the horn, effectively getting Leonardo's attention. The other driver nodded at the traffic lights. Leonardo looked at the lights then back to the driver, shaking his head.

"Ya scared?" the challengers taunted.

"I'm not in the mood for getting busted by the police," Leonardo replied.

The light turned green and the second car sped off. Leonardo ran his fingers through his light brown hair and lightly pressed down the gas pedal. If the guy wanted to get in trouble with the law that was his problem. A few times Leonardo had been tempted to race, but the accident would always surface, pushing back the urge to floor the gas pedal.

_I will never go down that path,_ Leonardo promised himself.

And as fate should have it, two cars came speeding down the road. He had to slam on the brakes to stop himself from getting hit. The cars were quickly followed by two police cars. The person behind Leonardo honked their horn. The teenager started off again.

_What were those two trying to prove?_ he wondered. _Obviously it wasn't how smart they were._

Leonardo pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store. He got out of the car, locked the door and made his way inside. He didn't notice someone in another car spying on him. The person typed something into a built-in computer. The screen lit up with information. The driver frowned.

"The son of a racer who doesn't like the sport. Odd, but workable."

Leonardo came out of the store, carrying a plastic bag. As he opened his car door he took out a bottle of water. He closed the door and started the car. The figure also started his car and followed Leonardo out of the parking lot.

* * *

Leonardo glanced in his rear-view mirror. The same black car had been following him ever since he had left the convenience store and it was beginning to annoy him.

_If you want to pass me then pass me,_ he silently commanded.

He headed for the Brooklyn Bridge. He wanted to see if he could lose whoever was tailing him. The driver of the other car smirked.

_Does he honestly think he's going to lose me?_ he thought.

Leonardo growled when he saw the black car pull into view. He could almost hear Trek and Lyle tell him to step on the gas. Leonardo felt his foot ease the pedal further towards the floor.

"Come on," the pursuer whispered. "Show me what ya got."

Leonardo drummed his fingers against the gear shift. He didn't want to do it. He had promised himself he would never resort to it. That sort of thing was meant for movies, television and a professional racing track.

_Don't do it,_ his rational mind told him.

_Racing is in your blood. Sooner or later you're going to have to come to terms with it,_ the irrational part of his mind said.

"I'm waiting."

Leonardo tightened his grip on both the wheel and the gear shift. The racer inside him was quickly taking over. Rational thinking went out the window as he felt a serge of adrenaline. He forced the car into a higher gear and slammed his foot down on the gas. The car shot forward.

"Show time."

The black car followed suit, only when it raced forward it changed from black to red. Leonardo did a double take.

"Wasn't that car black a second ago?"

He took his eyes and mind off the car behind him and focused on swerving in and out of traffic. He cranked the wheel and fish-tailed around a corner. Naturally, the red car followed. Leonardo found an open alley and drove through to the other side of the buildings. The red car slowed to a stop. The driver looked down at the small computer screen that was installed into the place where the radio and CD controls should have been. A licence plate number came up on screen. The driver took off his sunglasses, revealing piercing amber eyes.

"Nowhere to hide now, Mr. Summers." A description of the car and a home address came up. "I know everything about you."

* * *

Leonardo pulled into the garage. He turned off the car and buried his face in his hands.

"Idiot," he yelled, his voice muffled by his hands.

He moved his hands up and grasped his hair as if to pull a few strands out. How could he have done it? He had just promised himself he would never race or get involved in any sort of high-speed chase.

"So much for a clean record," he muttered as he got out of the car.

He locked the doors and went inside. There was a slight odor hovering in the air. Leonardo glanced into the garage can and saw a few cans of beer lying on top. His eyes wandered to the phone. He really should call the parole officer. However, the thoughts of coming face to face with any kind of authority figure after what had just happened made his stomach knot. Leonardo headed upstairs and locked himself in his room. He would call tomorrow.

* * *

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	3. Paranoia? Or Stalker?

"You did _what_?" Trek exclaimed.

"Shut up," Leonardo hissed.

The friends had been walking to History class when Leonardo had confessed to his mess up the day before. Naturally, Trek thought it was awesome.

"Dude, you've finally done it. You've crossed over."

"I have not," Leonardo protested. "I was trying to out run the guy."

"Well, I wanna meet whoever was chasin' ya and congratulate 'im for getting you to break the speed limit," Trek said.

The friends walked into the class and took their seats. Due to the alphabetical seating arrangement, Leonardo and Trek sat near the back of the class with their desks beside each other.

"I don't think you understand how much trouble I'm in," Leonardo said.

"You're only in trouble if you get caught," Trek voiced. "And, you didn't get caught, right?"

"Not that I know of."

"So, why are you freakin' out?" Trek asked.

Leonardo just gave his friend an agonized look. The teacher came into the room and class started. However, all Leonardo could concentrate on was what happened the yesterday. The feeling was indescribable. The exhilaration, the adrenaline rush, it was amazing. And that was why he was freaking out. He had enjoyed it. Leonardo nervously tapped his pencil against his notebook. He saw Trek give him a quick glance before tuning back to the lecture.

_The guy needs to learn how to relax,_ Trek thought. _He also needs to learn how to have fun. He has no sense of humor whatsoever. "Someone has to be responsible." That's what he'd say. Well, you can be responsible and fun at the same time._

He scribbled something down on a piece of paper, crumpled it up and tossed it on to Leonardo's desk. Summers picked up the paper ball and opened it. One word was written:

_Relax_

Leonardo glanced over at Trek, who shrugged.

"Calm down," he mouthed.

"Stevens? Summers? Something wrong?" the teacher asked.

The boys looked up. Leonardo shoved the note into his pencil case.

"No, sir," the friends replied.

"You're not going to faint, are you, Summers?"

Leonardo shook his head. "No, sir," he answered.

_Not today, at least,_ Trek added silently.

Leonardo looked at the clock. The class wasn't even half over. He hung his head and tried to concentrate on what was being said.

_This is going to be a long class,_ he determined.

* * *

When he walked out of the school, the first thing Leonardo saw was the red car. He was either being extremely paranoid or he was being stalked. Trek, Lyle and Natalia came up behind him.

"You okay, Blue?" Lyle asked.

Natalia followed Leonardo's gaze and saw the red car. "Cool car," she commented. "But, your car is cooler."

"Come on, Leo. I want to get to your place in time for the starting light," Trek said. "Sev has a really good chance at taking home the cup this year. He's got the best car on the track."

He headed over to where the blue Ferrari was parked and played with the door handle, giving Leonardo a not-so-subtle hint to get moving. The others followed. Leonardo opened the doors and the friends climbed into the car. With one last look at the blood red car, Leonardo drove out of the school parking lot and headed home.

The driver of the red car drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. His amber eyes gleamed in the dim light. He was thankful that his car had tinted windows. He was also thankful that he didn't have the only red car on the parking lot. Just then, his cell phone rang. Instead of taking out the phone, he tapped the computer screen.

"What?" his deep, Brooklyn accented voice broke the silence.

"Have you found him?" an obstructed voice asked on the other end.

"What do you think?"

"I think that you are not doing your job."

The driver rubbed the bridge of his nose in an annoyed manner. "I'm a bounty hunter. I learn everything there is to know about a bounty before I take him or her down."

"Just keep in mind that I do not pay you for trickery."

"I gave ya the two best racers you've ever had, remember?"

There was a short silence before the obstructed voice spoke again.

"Bring me the boy," it ordered.

And with that, the line went dead. The driver turned off the screen and tightened his bandanna.

"You'll get the boy when I'm finished with him," he muttered, turning on the car.

He shifted the car into "drive" and pulled out of the parking lot. He needed a stiff drink and at least a day's worth of sleep. Summers wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

Let me know what you think. Worth continuing?

As always, reviews are welcome, but flames have absolutely no value.


	4. Potential

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed.

* * *

The peaceful silence was interrupted by the piercing cries of both an alarm clock and a cell phone. A growl emitted from underneath the pile of blankets that was strewn around the king-sized bed. The person beneath the blankets reached up, hit his fist off the alarm clock then grabbed the phone.

"This had better be good."

"Pyro, where are you?"

"I _was_ in Dreamland until you called."

"The boss is getting edgy," the caller said.

"When is he _not _edgy?" Pyro asked.

"Your career is on the line here, Pyro."

"As is the life of the kid I was sent to get," Pyro pointed out. "Relax, would ya? I know what I'm doin'."

"Let's hope," the caller muttered.

Pyro rolled his eyes. He was in his mid-twenties and everyone treated him like he was a child. He had been doing this for the past eight years. He knew potential when he saw it and he knew the streets better than the gangs who ran them. Everyone called him the Recruiter. No racer ever made it to Speedway without going through him.

"So, when will you be back?" the caller asked.

"I'll be back when I get back," Pyro answered. "And if you call me again before I get back to Speedway you're gonna be doin' laps for a month."

He could almost picture the person on the other end swallow.

"Okay. Uh...bye."

The line went dead. Pyro snapped the cell phone shut and tossed it back on to the bedside table. He buried himself back into the blankets. He still had a few more hours before he had to go work.

* * *

Leonardo shifted through a car magazine while Trek and Lyle yelled at the TV. It was the last race in the final circuitand things were getting hectic. Trek wanted Sev, who indeed had the best car on the track, to win. However, Lyle wanted Cooper, Sev's rival, to win. Leonardo was glad Natalia wasn't there. She would be yelling because Trek and Lyle were yelling. Though she was a die hard race fan, she had a life. And on this bright and sunny Saturday her life had taken her to Manhattan for a cousin's birthday.

Over the noise of the television and his friends, Leonardo heard the phone ring. He tossed the magazine on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen. He silently wished that it was the police station. He had finally forced himself to call the parole officer to tell him about his father's drinking. He picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Get me out of here," someone hissed on the other end.

"Nat?"

"Who else would it be?" Natalia whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Leonardo asked.

"Because I'm in a closet upstairs and I don't want to be found."

_I don't want to know._ "Is it really that bad?" Leonardo asked.

"Have you met my family?"

Leonardo couldn't help but smile. Natalia could overreact at times. Her dream for life was to become an actress. She also wanted her boyfriend to become a professional racer, but that would never happen.

"Leo, please?" Natalia begged. "I can't take this anymore. They're so boring. Plus, I'm missing the race."

Leonardo glanced into the living room. Trek and Lyle were on the verge of having a fist fight. Leonardo looked down at the VCR. The red record button was flashing. Good. The race was being taped.

"Can you slip away?"

"You're going to rescue me?"

"Duh."

"I love you," Natalia breathed.

"I'll be there soon."

Natalia and Leonardo both hung up. Leonardo walked into the living room.

"Guys, I'm gone to..."

"What was that?" Trek yelled.

"Go, Cooper!" Lyle cheered as his favorite racer's car pulled into the lead.

"Guys?"

"You let him blow right by ya!" Trek shouted, though he knew he wouldn't be heard.

Leonardo sighed and headed for the garage. He grabbed his car keys and jacket and walked out the door. He opened the garage door and got into his car. While the door was sliding up, Leonardo turned on the engine. He drove out of the garage, pushed the button to automatically close the garage door and headed for Manhattan.

* * *

Thirty minutes of driving soon found the blue Ferrari slowly driving through the neighbourhood of Natalia's cousin. He parked outside an apartment building and turned off the car. He checked his watch and waited for his girlfriend. A couple of minutes later, someone came sneaking around from the back. Leonardo knew that fiery red hair anywhere. He turned on the car and unlocked the doors. Natalia hurried over to the car and climbed in.

"Go," she hissed.

Leonardo drove off. Within seconds they were crossing the bridge. Natalia sat back in the seat and sighed in relief.

"Rough day?" Leonardo asked.

Natalia glared at him. "Don't even joke," she snapped. She groaned. "Urgh...my family is so dull."

"They're not that dull," Leonardo said.

"Not to you. You like dull," Natalia countered. "Which is what I don't get. Your dad is...or was...a racer. Why don't you like racing?"

Leonardo didn't answer. He just kept his eyes on the road, checking the mirros every now and then. Natalia fell silent and gazed out the window. A heavy, awkward silence fell. Leonardo checked the rear-view mirror and felt like his heart was going to stop beating. The ominious red car was right behind him.

"Is this guy a cop?" Leonardo asked.

"What?"

Natalia turned in the seat and looked out the back window. She saw the red car.

"Isn't that the same car we saw at school yesterday?" she asked.

"And it's the same car that made me break the speed limit."

Natalia turned back around. "Is he stalking you?"

From his car, Pyro could hear everything that was being said. While Summers was in school, he had planted a wire in his car.

"Whoever this guy is, he's starting to fray my nerves," Leonardo spoke.

Pyro smirked. This was too much fun.

"Why don't you try to lose him?" Natalia suggested.

"And risk getting caught? I'll take my chances with the stalker," Leonardo said.

"You're the son of a street racer!" Natalia yelled. "Your dad is Brad Summers, the most respected and feared man known to street racing history."

Pyro's eyes widened a little. Why did that name sound so familiar? Leonardo shook his head. He looked in the rear-view mirror at the red car. Pyro looked right back at him, though Summers couldn't see him. They stopped at a red light. Things were quiet in the Ferrari.

_You've got what it takes, kid,_ Pyro thought. _You were holdin' back the other day. You can't fool me._

"I'm not going down that road," Leonardo said.

The light turned green and the Ferrari disappeared into traffic. Pyro pulled into a nearby alley and turned off the car. He knew enough. It was time to strike.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	5. Speedway

When Leonardo walked into the house, the first thing he noticed was the quiet. He tossed his keys on the counter and took off his jacket. He walked into the living room and found his father asleep on the couch. By the looks of things, Lyle and Trek had left hours ago. Leonardo threw his jacket over the side of a chair and went up to his room. He wasn't up there for two minutes when a knock came on the door. Waking up from his sleep, Brad pushed himself up off the couch and sluggishly made his way to the front door. He opened it and was greeted by a police officer.

"And you are?" Brad asked, still half asleep.

The officer took out a badge. "Lieutenant Pyro. NYPD."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Brad looked at the badge. Leonardo slowly made his way downstairs. Brad nodded in understanding, figuring out that his son had probably called the police about his drinking problem.

"My son finally call, huh?" he asked. "He's always threatening to call about my..."

"Actually sir, I'm not here for you," the officer replied, putting the badge back in his pocket.

Brad frowned. From the stairs, Leonardo stared at the officer. His eyes wandered to the police cruiser in the driveway.

"Who else would you want?" Brad asked.

"Your son."

Leonardo felt his heart drop. His father looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Leonardo slid down into a sitting position and stared through the bars towards the door.

"Leo?" Brad whispered in disbelief. "There must be some mistake."

"No mistake," the officer assured him.

"He's never been in trouble with the law," Brad continued. "Under what charges is he being taken?"

Leonardo knew what the charges were before the officer spoke.

"Your son was involved in an illegal street race a couple of days ago," the man explained.

"Now I _know_ there's been a mistake," Brad said. "My boy doesn't race."

The officer took out a picture from his vest pocket and held it up. "Is that your son's licence plate?"

Brad swallowed. "Yes."

"Is it his car?"

There was a short pause.

"Yes."

"Then your son is under arrest."

Leonardo thought he was going to be sick. He hung his head and buried his face in his hands. The officer tucked the picture back into his pocket.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I don't have all day."

Brad reluctantly stepped to the side and the man walked over to the stairs.

"Leonardo Summers?"

Leonardo looked up. "Yes?"

"Stand up and turn around, please."

Trying to remember how to breathe, Leonardo got to his feet and turned around. He felt the cold metal of handcuffs wrap around his wrists. He was led out of the house and to the police car. Everything seemed to shatter when the door slammed shut.

_It's your own fault,_ he told himself. _You knew it was a bad idea, but you did it anyway._

The car started and pulled out of the driveway. A heavy silence quickly fell. Leonardo gazed out the window. Every now and then the officer glanced in the rear-view mirror at the passenger. He pushed a button and the radio panel flipped back, revealing a computer screen. He pressed another button and the handcuffs were cut away. Leonardo rubbed his wrists and glanced up. The driver took off his hat and put on a blood red bandanna. Before it was covered up, Leonardo saw the color of the driver's hair. It was jet black with a white streak running down the middle. The driver removed his jacket, revealing a black short-sleeved shirt. Leonardo saw the top of a flame tattoo on the driver's neck.

Another button was pushed and the grate separating the front and back seat folded and collapsed into a compartment in the floor. Leonardo leaned forward. Glancing in the mirror, the driver typed something into the computer and straps shot out of the back seat, pulling Leonardo back. Straps came up through the bottom of the seat and connected to the buckle that hung against Leonardo's chest. They tightened and pulled him further into the seat.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Leonardo fought at the buckle. "Let me go!"

The driver slid his sunglasses down. Leonardo gulped. Cold amber eyes locked with his through the mirror.

"If you want to live you'll do as your told."

Leonardo tried to remain calm. "What do you want with me?" he asked.

The man pushed something and the car began to fill with a strange red mist. He slipped on a gas mask as Leonardo began to lose consciousness.

"See ya in a few hours, kid."

* * *

The fog finally began to clear and consciousness slowly took over. Leonardo moaned and opened his eyes. The car had been replaced with a dark apartment.

_Now where am I?_

Leonardo pushed himself into a sitting position and looked around. The apartment was empty, save for a couple of chairs, kitchen appliances and a couch, which he had been sleeping on. He rubbed his eyes and tried to remember the events prior to his current situation. He remembered being arrested, but after that it was blank.

Leonardo gave up trying to remember and got to his feet. He left the apartment and made his way outside. He stopped dead in his tracks when he stepped out into the sunlight. He didn't know if he was supposed to be scared, shocked, or excited. It was hard not to know where he was. The city practically screamed Speedway. It was similar to New York, but a lot less cluttered. It was spacious and radiated energy. Sky-walks bridged some of the larger buildings together and several structures had ramps installed on the roof.

_This is a dream._

A horn honked. Leonardo looked to the left. An orange, tiger stripped Elise pulled up. The engine cut off and the driver, who Leonardo determined was around his age, got out. His messy, dirty blonde hair fell over his crystal blue eyes. He wore a loose beige jacket over a white T-shirt, which was tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans. His skin was a golden tan, so it was obvious that he spent a lot of time outside.

"You look lost," he said.

Leonardo found it difficult to talk. His tongue suddenly felt far too big for his mouth.

"The name's Michelangelo," the teen introduced himself. "But, everyone calls me Mikey."

"Leo."

For some reason Leonardo couldn't manage to say his full name. Michelangelo grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Well, Leo, if you need a ride, I'm your man. Mikey's Welcome Wagon, at your service," he announced, patting the roof of the car.

"Do you have a phone?" Leonardo managed to ask.

"Is the sky blue?" Michelangelo countered. "Climb in."

The boys got into the car. Leonardo examined the interior. He could tell Michelangelo was a party person. It was also apparent that he liked to surf and skateboard.

Instead of reaching for a phone, Michelangelo opened up a built-in computer. Leonardo couldn't help but stare.

"Somethin' wrong?" Michelangelo asked.

"The guy who arrested me had a computer built into his car."

Michelangelo stared at him. "Dude, you were arrested?"

Leonardo frowned. "It's not something one should be proud of."

Michelangelo shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. You're the first person to come here without any broken bones or serious injuries."

Leonardo swallowed. Just how rough was this place? Michelangelo typed something into the computer.

"Where do you want to call?" he inquired.

"New York," Leonardo told him.

Michelangelo hesitated. "Uh...Houston, we have a problem."

"What problem?"

Michelangelo sat back and rubbed his neck. "There's no contact with the outside world. This place is protected by a cloaking device. Totally from the comics, I know, but I'm serious. The guy who runs this island is a little..." He slowly spun his index finger around his right temple and made the "cuckoo" sound.

"So, we're stuck here?" Leonardo asked.

"This is a big island, dude. You'll never get bored," Michelangelo assured him as he started the car.

Leonardo sat back in the seat and looked out the window as the car drove off. He was stuck in a strange city with no way of contacting home. How could it possibly get any worse?

Michelangelo tapped his fingers against the wheel. He hated awkward silences. Eventually he spoke.

"So...where's your home turf?" he started.

"New York City," Leonardo answered, keeping his eyes on the window.

"NYC, huh? Been there a couple of times. But, you don't get good waves."

Leonardo smiled slightly. "I wouldn't know. I've never surfed."

Michelangelo's eyes widened. "_Never_? Man, we have _got_ to get you on a board."

"Where are you from?" Leonardo asked.

"I roam the beautiful beaches of Malibu, California," Michelangelo boasted.

Just as he said it, they drove by a white sandy beach. Leonardo could see a few people surfing, but most of the crowd was laying around, enjoying the sun. It was like something out of a travel brochure. Michelangelo leaned forward, his eyes taking in the sight of the huge waves. He bounced a little in his seat.

"They're not even doin' it right," he said.

"Mikey," Leonardo warned, his voice rising a bit.

Michelangelo turned back to the road. He swerved in time to miss an on-coming truck. Leonardo loosened his grip on the seat. The surfer laughed.

"Relax, bro. I've never had an accident in all the years that I've been drivin' and I won't start now," he assured his passenger.

Leonardo took a few deep breaths. "Just how long have you been driving?" he asked cautiously.

Michelangelo looked like he was thinking. "About...three years."

Something didn't seem right. If he had been driving for three years, he would have been fifteen when he got his license. However, the age for getting a permit was sixteen.

"That doesn't make sense," Leonardo voiced. "You wouldn't have been old enough to have a license."

"My dad taught me how to drive," Michelangelo informed his new friend.

Leonardo blinked. "Oh."

Michelangelo chuckled. "Don't worry about it. Most people make the same assumption when I tell them." He pulled up to a bar. "Here we are."

The boys got out of the car and headed for the door. Michelangelo locked the car doors before heading inside. Leonardo followed him. As soon as he walked in, he thought he had gone blind. In complete contrast to the sunny world outside, the pub was almost pitch dark. Leonardo blinked a few times to get his eyes adjusted. When he could finally see, Summers looked around.

An entire wall was dedicated to the bar while another housed a stage. Dozens of tables were strewn around the large room. Small monitors hung from the ceiling and displayed different sports. Every now and then someone would yell and bang on the table.

"What kind place is this?" Leonardo asked.

"Speedway's most popular sports bar," Michelangelo told him. "Welcome to The Race Track."

Someone threw a beer bottle at the wall, making Leonardo wince.

"Nice place," he muttered.

Michelangelo led him over to the bar. But, before they could sit down someone called out.

"Yo, Mikester! Over here!"

Michelangelo turned around, as did Leonardo. A raven haired man was waving at them. Michelangelo waved back. Without saying anything, he grabbed Leonardo's arm and hurried over to the table. Another male and a woman were also there.

"I didn't think you were comin'," the raven haired man said.

"Big guy called me and said that there was a newbie that needed to be shown around," Michelangelo explained. He turned to Leonardo. "Leo, this here is Casey Jones. A complete bonehead, but that's just between us."

"And it doesn't make any difference to you that he just heard that," Leonardo noted.

The younger male and woman laughed. Casey just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Moving on: the lovely red-head is Miss April O'Neil, and her quiet companion is Mr. Donatello O'Connell. Everyone, this is our newbie..."

"Leonardo Summers." He turned to Michelangelo. "Newbie?"

"It's not an insult," Donatello reassured him. "Trust me, you'll know the difference."

Michelangelo and Leonardo grabbed two empty chairs and sat down at the table. Casey went to the bar to get drinks. Now that his eyes were properly adjusted to the dark room, Leonardo looked around. There was a curtained doorway at the far end of the room. When a waitress walked out, he saw a few tables set up for different card games, like Black Jack and Poker.

Casey returned with a tray of glasses and started setting them down. He put the tray on a nearby table and sat down.

"I didn't know what you wanted so I just got you water," he told Leonardo.

"Water's fine," Leonardo answered, sliding the glass closer to him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that most people in the room were staring at him. But, whenever he glanced around they would look away. April patted his hand.

"It's normal," she said. "Every new-comer experiences what you're going through."

"Until the qualifier," Donatello muttered into his drink.

The others looked at him. He didn't seem to notice.

"Qualifier?" Leonardo echoed.

"Seriously? Mikey, you didn't tell him?" Casey asked.

"Why else would he be here?" Michelangelo wanted to know.

Leonardo's eyes darted from Michelangelo to Casey then back again.

"What qualifier?" he asked again.

Donatello put his glass down. "Honestly? It's the most nightmarish race you'll ever drive in your life," he said.

* * *

What do you think?


	6. Raphael

Leonardo splashed cold water on his face in hopes of waking up. This wasn't a dream, this was a nightmare. He had heard stories about Speedway. An island that was made especially for the best racers. It was around the same size as Austraila. It was composed of Speedway City, the Waste Lands, Water Works and a Ring of Fire. The Ring of Fire was a death trap in itself. The track was built around an active volcano and large pools of molten lava. One false move and it was game over. The Water Works was basically a track inside an abandoned pumping station. However, over the years, pipes had burst and hallways had flooded. And the Waste Lands were no different. They were just as dangerous as the Ring of Fire and Water Works. Stories had been told of drivers who had been stranded out in the Waste Lands. They never ended pleasantly.

But, nothing compared to what would happen if you kept losing races. If you were caught in a losing streak your life was basically over. Other stories told of a torture chamber hidden somewhere in the Waste Lands.

_That's where I'm gonna end up,_ Leonardo determined.

The washroom door opened and Donatello walked in.

"You okay?"

"No. No, I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?" Donatello asked, crossing his arms.

Leonardo turned to face him. "What's wrong? Everything's wrong. I'm not supposed to be here."

"If you weren't supposed to be here then you wouldn't be here," Donatello reasoned.

Leonardo growled. He stared into Donatello's light brown eyes. For the first time since meeting him, Leonardo could actually see his features. Donatello's light brown hair was neatly combed, however his bangs fell over his eyes like a veil. He wore jeans that had obviously seen better days. They were torn and were scarred with engine grease. A baggy black jacket was pulled over a grey T-shirt. When Donatello moved his arms, Leonardo saw that his hands were also stained with engine oil.

"You an engineer?" Leonardo asked.

Donatello rubbed his hands together. "I guess you could say that."

"How long have you been at it?"

"Since I was twelve," Donatello answered. "I kinda grew up in my dad's garage. He taught me how to fix and build cars."

Leonardo whistled. "Wow. That's cool."

"Yeah. But, it gets annoying, though. Especially in the racing business."

Just then, Michelangelo poked his head into the washroom.

"Dudes, you're missing the action," he said.

"We'll be right out, Mikey," Leonardo told him. Michelangelo disappeared. "What action?" Leonardo asked.

"You're not the only newbie in Speedway, you know," Donatello said, grinning.

Leonardo frowned. He wasn't liking where this was going. Donatello grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the washroom. The tables had been pushed back against the walls to make room for whatever was about to happen. Only one table stood in the middle of the room. Donatello and Leonardo headed over to where Michelangelo, April and Casey were standing.

"What's going on?" Leonardo asked.

"Ever heard of an initiation?" April muttered, crossing her arms.

Leonardo gulped. This wasn't going to end well.

"It's to see if you can hold your own," Donatello explained. "Sometimes it's funny...then other times people are sent to the hospital."

"What?" Leonardo exclaimed.

"Alright, let's get started," someone spoke from the stage.

The waitresses and other girls headed out of the room. April followed them. This was clearly a guy thing. The man on stage picked up a hat. He shook it then asked someone to pull out a piece of paper.

"I don't feel well," Leonardo whispered as he sank into a chair. "Do you _have_ to do it?"

"You really _aren't_ supposed to be here," Donatello told him.

"I'm not a racer. I've never raced in my life."

"Then why are you here?" Casey asked.

"Because my dad was racer? How am I supposed to know? I got busted for trying to lose someone in a red car."

Donatello, Michelangelo and Casey looked at each other. They all had the same expression.

"Alright. We have our first contestant," the person with the mic announced.

Leonardo buried his face in his hands. He didn't hear who had been called, nor did he hear what was being done. But, whatever it was it had something to do with energy drink, even from where he was sitting he could smell it. Leonardo thought he was going to be sick as he watched the initiation. What made it worse was that sooner or later he was going to have to sit in one of those chairs and try to out-drink some stranger.

About five minutes in, the new-comer that had been called rushed off to the washroom, clearly about to lose everything that was in his stomach. The guy he had been going up against got to his feet, a triumpant smile on his face, and stumbled over to another table. He was shaking uncontrollably. One of his friends ordered a glass of water. The process continued for about thirty minutes. Then, the nightmare really started.

"Leonardo Summers."

Leonardo knew for a fact that his heart had stopped beating. Donatello nudged him in the shoulder.

"Get moving," he hissed.

Leonardo forced himself to his feet and walked over to the table. He didn't like the fact that all eyes were on him. He sat down in the nearest chair and glanced around.

_Who am I facing?_ he wondered.

Before anyone could speak, the door opened and someone walked in. All eyes turned from Leonardo to the door. Summers felt a chill shoot down his spine as he stared into cold amber eyes.

"That time of year again, I see," the new-comer said, his deep voice echoed through the silent bar.

"H-hey, Pyro," the spokesman greeted. "Wasn't expectin' to see ya so soon."

Summers frowned. He thought back to when he had been arrested. The officer had said his name was Pyro. And, Leonardo was sure he would never forget those piercing eyes.

"You," Leonardo growled, a little louder than he intended.

The man looked down at him.

"Is there a problem?" Pyro wanted to know.

Donatello was slowly shaking his head, Michelangelo had covered his eyes and Casey was as still as a statue. Pyro glared down at Leonardo, who returned the glare. This guy was responsible for this mess. He finally had a face to the person who had been stalking him.

"If you've got somethin' to say, kid, say it," Pyro said, leaning down on the table.

"You ruined everything!" Leonardo exploded. "You had no right to barge in on my life. I was doing just fine until you showed up."

"Shut up," he heard Donatello hiss behind him.

Pyro's eyes flickered over to Donatello then back to Leonardo. "I'd listen to your friend, kid. We wouldn't want you to lose your tongue this early in the game."

Leonardo stood to his feet, causing Pyro to straighten.

"Is that a threat?" Leonardo asked.

Pyro threw a set of keys at him. Leonardo looked down at them.

"It's a challenge."

* * *

"This isn't supposed to happen," Donatello said.

Pyro and Leonardo got into their cars and started the engine.

"Me and my big mouth," Leonardo growled as he pulled on the seat belt.

Just then, the computer screen flickered on and Donatello appeared.

"You idiot," he scowled. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that this Pyro guy is the one who dragged me here in the first place," Leonardo told him.

"Dude, no one talks like that to Raphael and lives to tell about it," Michelangelo said, appearing on the screen.

"Who's Raphael?" Leonardo inquired.

Michelangelo was pushed out of the way and the engineer reappered.

"Pyro," Donatello answered. "His real name is Raphael. But, everyone knows him as Pyro."

"It's been nice knowin' ya," Casey put in. "You'll be lucky to come back in one piece."

The screen split in two and Pyro...or Raphael, appeared. His amber eyes seemed to have grown colder and darker.

"You ready, kid?" he asked.

"You gonna tell me where I'm supposed to go?"

Raphael smirked. "Just follow me," he taunted.

Leonardo growled as the screen went blank.

"I'll send you a map of the track. Hopefully it'll help," Donatello said.

"Thanks, Don."

The screen switched to a road map. The track was outlined in red. Leonardo tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking and his heart was racing a mile a minute. Someone walked out in front of the cars.

"I want a good, clean race. No tricks."

Leonardo tightened his grip on the wheel. He could feel the adrenaline start to kick in. The man held up a small pistol.

"Three...two..."

The engines revved.

"One...go!"

The pistol fired and the cars shot forward. They swerved through traffic, avoiding collisions and trying to get ahead of each other. The track took them downtown and across the boardwalk of the beach. Leonardo glanced quickly at the map. They were half way to the finish.

_What good is it doing me? I'm just following this guy._

They practically flew back on to the street. Leonardo fish-tailed and nearly crashed into a light pole. He regained control and chased after Raphael's dark red, flame painted Vanquish. The finish line was fast approaching.

_If I don't pull out in front of him I'll never hear the end of it._

Raphael glanced back at Leonardo's car. He frowned.

_Come on, kid. You're holdin' back. What are you afraid of?_

Leonardo tried to press on the gas, but something was holding him back. The night of the accident flashed through his mind and he slammed on the brake. Raphael's car zoomed past the finish line. Leonardo put the car in park and turned off the engine, gasping for breath. He hung his head. A couple minutes later, someone tapped on the window. Leonardo looked up and saw Raphael looking down at him. Summers rolled down the window.

"To say the least that was entertaining," Raphael began.

"Shut up," Leonardo told him.

"You've got spunk, kid. Not very many people who come here have it."

"What good will it do me? I'm probably the laughing stalk of Speedway," Leonardo said.

"You're not," Raphael assured him. "You've got more guts than everyone on this island put together."

Leonardo gave him a skeptical look. "How? I was terrified."

Raphael tapped the roof of the car. "Let's go for a walk. Hey, Tommy, come get the car," he yelled.

He opened the door and Leonardo climbed out. Tommy got in behind the wheel, closed the door and drove away. Raphael and Leonardo headed down the street. Things had quickly gone back to normal.

"If you don't look up soon you're gonna walk into somethin'," Raphael said.

Leonardo glanced up. He was about to walk into a light pole. Side-stepping around it, he caught up to Raphael again.

"Why did you bring me here?" Leonardo asked. "It wasn't because I was a good racer."

"I've been watchin' you for some time," Raphael admitted.

"How long?" Leonardo blurted out.

"A couple of months," Raphael replied.

"And you only just revealed yourself now?"

Raphael stopped walking and looked out over the beach. His eyes were focused on something in the distance, something only he could see. Leonardo looked from the beach to the man beside him. It was apparent that Raphael worked out. His muscular frame pulled against his shirt. Without the restrictions of the car, Leonardo could now see the flame tattoo on Raphael's right forearm.

"Why me?" Leonardo asked softly, looking away.

"Why not you?" Raphael countered.

"Because I had a life. I knew what I wanted to do and it had nothing to do with Speedway."

Raphael leaned against the railing, his eyes still on the horizon. Leonardo sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"I don't blame you for hating me," Raphael began. "I tend to ruin more lives than I want."

"Why not stop?" Leonardo offered.

Raphael finally looked at the boy standing next to him.

"Because like you, I'm stuck," he confessed. "I started off just like you. Family, friends, bright future."

"What happened?" Leonardo asked.

"Same thing that happened to you. I got dragged here. And, like you, I didn't want anything to do with high-speed driving."

It was then that Leonardo noticed that Raphael's arms were scarred. Raphael stood up and pulled up his shirt, revealing his scarred back.

"What happened?" Leonardo asked as Raphael fixed his shirt.

"Collision with a fuel truck."

Leonardo winced. Raphael tapped the rail. His eyes returned to the beach. Leonardo looked up at the man everyone was afraid of. He wasn't intimidating anymore. The fire in his eyes had been replaced with sorrow and agony. It was hard to believe that this was the man who had everyone running scared.

_I guess not very many people see him like this,_ he thought.

"I had to watch two people die that day," Raphael whispered. "And it was partically my fault." He sighed and rolled his shoulders. "I still see their faces whenever I close my eyes. When you witness something like that you never forget it, no matter how much you try."

"Have you tried forget?" Leonardo asked.

Raphael sighed again. "I guess I have forgotten to some degree. But not to the point where I can't recall any of it. I know it happened. But, the events before and after are hazy."

The sun began to slowly sink, painting the sky in a mix of orange, pink, and lavendar. Leonardo suddenly felt extremely tired. This had been one hectic day. He knew he didn't have much to go back to at the apartment, but right now, the couch seemed awfully inviting.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	7. Remembering

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Your reviews are what keeps me writing.

**Disclaimer**: see chapter one.

* * *

_"Dad, slow down, would ya?"_

_Two cars shot through the streets, neck in neck with each other. The fourteen-year old passenger of the GMC pick-up truck clung to his seat and squeezed his eyes shut. The driver laughed._

_"C'mon, Leo. Where's your sense of fun?"_

_"I think I left it at the lights. Along with my stomach."_

_Leonardo released his death grip on the seat and grasped his churning stomach. He was going to lose it._

_"Dad, _please_. Slow down. You're gonna crash into something."_

_Brad Summers chuckled again, but he did as his son said. Leonardo slowly began to relax. He knew that his father would be in a rotten mood for the rest of the night because he lost the race. Brad had been a street racer for the past six years. Three of those years he had been missing. No one knew where he had disappeared to. The only one who knew was Brad, and he wasn't telling anyone any time soon._

_Leonardo searched the truck for his favorite CD. It wasn't in the CD player, or the glove-box. Looking up every now and then to keep himself from getting even more nauseous, Leonardo finally found the CD case. As luck should have it, it was on the floor in the back. And to make things even more challenging, the seat belt wouldn't allow him to lean back to get it._

_"You won't crash or anything, will you?" Leonardo asked his father._

_Brad shook his head. Leonardo cautiously unbuckled his seat belt._

Put in on. Put in on,_ his mind began telling him._

I want that CD_, another part of his brain snapped back._

_Leonardo grabbed for the case. However, the case slid further from reach. Leonardo leaned further and made another grasp for it. His fingers wrapped around something, but it wasn't the CD case. Leonardo pulled out the object, finding out that it was a beer can. He frowned. Since when did his dad drink?_

Put your seat belt on!_ his mind screamed at him._

_Headlights lit up the dark truck. Leonardo looked up and was met by the front bumper of a fuel truck. He shot back into his seat and was about to snap the place, but he was a couple seconds too slow. Brad didn't notice the truck until it was too late. Being impaired, his reflexes were shot so he couldn't swerve out of the way. The truck hit._

Leonardo shot up, gasping for breath. He was back in the apartment, stretched out on the couch. That had been the first time in three years since he had dreamt about the accident. Leonardo lay back down and curled into a ball.

_It was just a dream,_ he told himself._ It was just a dream._

A knock sounded at the door. Leonardo pushed himself up and went to the door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"House keeping."

"I don't have much of a house to keep."

"Dude, open the door! We can't hold these things all day."

Leonardo opened the door. Michelangelo and Casey entered, each carrying an end of a tall dresser. Donatello and April followed, each with a couple of small boxes.

"What's going on?" Leonardo asked.

"You're officially moving in," Donatello answered, setting the boxes down on the kitchen counter.

Michelangelo and Casey came out of the bedroom, having discarded the dresser in its rightful place. More men soon invaded with the rest of the furniture.

"And where is this coming from?" Leonardo asked.

"The furniture stores donate a few pieces of furniture to help the newcomers along," April explained.

"You also need food," Michelangelo pointed out, looking in the fridge.

"When we get Leo situated then we can go grocery shopping," April told him.

The rest of the furniture arrived and the new friends spent most of the day arranging everything. Donatello had surprised Leonardo with both a hand-built surround sound system and flat screen TV.

"I thought you were just a lowly engineer," Leonardo teased.

"I also do electronics," Donatello replied.

"Food," Michelangelo yipped.

* * *

The office was dark save for the flickering monitors. A figure sat in a tall chair and glared at the images. Each monitor showed a different newbie. His tinted glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he observed the monitor that showed Leonardo. He climbed into Donatello's purple, machine painted EVO with Michelangelo while Casey and April got into Casey's pick-up truck.

The figure pressed a button on the arm of the chair.

"Yes, sir?" a woman's voice came on the other line.

"Bring me Raphael."

* * *

Raphael was in the middle of doing push-ups when he heard someone enter his apartment. In Speedway City it was cheaper for everyone to live in apartments than in individual houses, and it saved space.

"You're busted."

Raphael stopped in mid-push and slowly looked up. A young woman stood over him. Grey-blue eyes glared down into amber eyes. Her silver hair fell half way down her back. She wore a green strapless tank top and short shorts. Though he couldn't stand her, Raphael would've had to call himself a fool if he said she wasn't pleasing to look at.

"The boss send ya to get me I take it," Raphael noted, pushing himself to his feet.

"Don't think that I wanted the task," the woman spat.

Raphael smirked. They were polar opposites. He was hot, she was cold. They had been rivals for years. Everyone called her Tyra, simply because no one knew her real name. Of course, she had many other names given to her by various men. The person who gave her the name "Tyra" was none other than Raphael. He had also been the one to bring her to Speedway. When asked what "Tyra" meant, Raphael replied, "War."

And the name fit. As soon as she passed the qualifier, Tyra and Raphael became rivals. Though she had managed to win the race, Raphael still had bragging rights as to being the owner of the fastest car on the island, which was the second fastest car in the world. It was another thing she hated him for.

"The boss wants you in his office," Tyra said.

"Again?" Raphael asked.

"You spend more time in his office than you do on the track."

Tyra headed for the door. Raphael growled under his breath. She was pleasing to the eyes but not to the ears.

"Thank you, Miss Sunshine. I didn't ask for your opinion."

Raphael grabbed his car keys as they walked out of the apartment. A few minutes later, he walked into the dark office with Tyra standing outside the door. She wanted to hear everything.

"Next time, don't send the storm cloud," Raphael told the person in the tall chair.

"I'll send whomever I want."

Raphael rolled his shoulders and sighed. "Fine. Whatever. What do you want?"

The monitors turned off and became one giant screen. It now showed the group of friends grocery shopping.

"Not the most exciting reality show," Raphael commented, crossing his arms.

"Who does he remind you of?"

Raphael frowned. He looked closely at Leonardo. At one point, Summers looked straight at the hidden camera. A scene from an old memory flashed in Raphael's mind. He shook his head and closed his eyes. He couldn't see it, but the man in the chair smiled.

"Who does he remind you of?" he asked.

"I ain't playin' your mind games," Raphael said.

The man behind the desk stood up and walked around the desk and over to Raphael.

"You remember, don't you?"

Raphael's mind drifted to Tyra. She was probably enjoying every minute of the conversation. The man smiled in satisfaction.

"You _do_ remember."

"I'm done here."

Raphael turned and was about to leave the room when his employer spoke.

"I want the boy to run the qualifier track."

Raphael stopped and turned around. "But, he just got here. No newbie runs the qualifier track without some sort of training. It's suicide."

The man's eyes darkened. "Need I remind you of who is in charge?"

Raphael rubbed his right forearm. "No, sir."

"Good. You're dismissed."

Raphael headed out of the office. When he was gone, Tyra walked into the room. She stood at attention with her arms behind her back.

"Tyra, I want you to keep an eye on Raphael," the man instructed. "Lately he has been showing signs of free will. An interesting trait, but one that I will not tolerate."

"Yes, sir," Tyra replied.

The man picked up the gold name plate that sat on his desk.

"I have put too much time and effort into this and I will not let it go to waste."

The name plate was lit up by the light from the monitor. The light revealed the name John Bishop.

* * *

What do you think?

Reviews are always welcome, flames will not be tolerated.


	8. Following Orders

Raphael pushed his hair out of his face. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Another wave of nausea hit and he bent over the sink. He grabbed a wet towel and buried his face into the cold fabric. What was wrong with him? Still holding the towel, Raphael gripped his stomach as he sank to his knees. The phone rang. With a shaky hand, Raphael picked up the cordless phone he had taken into the washroom and pushed "talk".

"Yeah?"

"This is what happens when you don't follow orders," Bishop said.

"Make it stop," Raphael pleaded.

"The only way to make it stop is to obey," Bishop told him.

Raphael dropped the phone as his stomach began to churn again. He almost didn't make it to the toilet. Bishop listened as Raphael suffered. Behind him, Tyra cringed.

"Unless you want to share his fate, I suggest you remind yourself of who you work for when you feel like disobeying orders," Bishop instructed her.

"Yes, sir," Tyra answered.

Raphael wiped tears of pain from his eyes and ran the towel over his mouth. He picked the phone up again.

"When's the qualifier?" he asked.

Bishop smiled. "That's what I like to hear. The qualifier is tomorrow. Tyra will gather the other nine racers while you inform Summers," he explained.

Raphael hung his head. "Yes, sir," he said in defeat.

* * *

April slapped Michelangelo's hand before he could take another slice of pizza.

"Ow," he moaned, rubbing his hand.

"You've had six already. Leave some for the rest of us," April said.

"Good thing we ordered the party size," Donatello commented.

Leonardo couldn't help but smile. He was seventeen and already he had his own place. Granted, he had to be kidnapped in order to get his own place, but it felt good and terrifying at the same time.

_What would Mom and Dad say if they were here?_ he wondered.

Before he could think up an answer, a knock came on the door. Leonardo got to his feet and went to answer it. When he opened the door he was met by a very pale Raphael.

"Whoa. Raph, you okay?"

The others leaned over in their seats when they heard Raphael's name. Raphael leaned on the door frame.

"Nothin' you need to worry about," he said. "Uh...can I talk to you?"

"Sure."

Leonardo walked out into the hall and closed the door.

"This is extremely short notice, but, the qualifier has been moved to tomorrow," Raphael said, holding his stomach.

Leonardo's eyes widened in horror and the color drained from his face. "T-tomorrow?" he stammered. "But, you only just dragged me here yesterday." Raphael winced. "Are you sure you're okay?" Leonardo asked.

"A bout of food poisonin'," Raphael gasped as pain stabbed his stomach.

Leonardo opened the door and stepped to the side. "Washroom's free if you need to use it."

"Thanks, kid."

Raphael hurried inside the apartment and disappeared into the washroom. The others looked from the bathroom door to Leonardo. He closed the door and shrugged.

_He must've had something really rotten,_ he thought.

* * *

By the time the nausea died down it was dawn the following morning. Raphael woke up on the floor by the toilet. Not the most pleasant spot to fall asleep, but he really had no other choice. He moaned in pain. Bishop had always threatened to punish him for his attitude problem, but he never thought he would actually follow through with it.

_I should know better, _Raphael scolded himself.

The phone rang. He picked up the cordless and answered it.

"Yeah?"

"Help me!"

Raphael pulled the phone away from his ear and hissed. After he had regained hearing in his right ear, he spoke into the receiver.

"Kid, this isn't the best time."

"I don't know what you expect me to do," Leonardo said.

"I expect you to hang up and leave me alone."

"In case you've forgotten, I'm supposed to run a race today...on a track I have never heard of before in my life...at a speed that will cause me to lose control of the car."

Raphael rubbed his eyes and groaned silently. "Kid, talk to Don. He's the track and car expert."

"You're not going to help?"

"What do you want from me?"

Leonardo fell silent. Raphael sighed and closed his eyes. His head was pounding and he was beginning to feel hungry.

"Kid, please. Just talk to Don. He'll set ya straight. Trust me. He'll be more help to ya than I will."

"Are you going to be there?" Leonardo asked.

Raphael smiled. "What am I?"

"My kidnapper?" Leonardo guessed.

Raphael laughed. "Right. I kidnapped you and now you're actin' like I'm your father."

Things were quiet for a few moments.

"At least you're there," Leonardo said softly. "My real father spends too much of his time drunk."

Raphael sighed. He was getting soft. And he was quickly treating Leonardo like a kid brother. What was _wrong_ with him?

"I'll try to be there. But, I can't promise you anythin'. I'm still a bit stomach sick from yesterday."

"I understand," Leonardo said. He yawned. "Well, I'd better get some sleep otherwise I might fall asleep behind the wheel," he joked.

Another memory flashed through Raphael's mind. He shook his head.

"Yeah. Wouldn't want that," he agreed.

"Well, see ya. Get well soon."

The line went dead. Raphael hung up, placed the phone on the floor and ran his hands down his face. He wanted to go. He had always gone in the past. So, what made this any different?

_"Your dad's fine."_

_"What about the other driver?"_

Raphael opened his eyes. Were these memories really his? Bishop said he was remembering, though Raphael had no idea what he was supposed to be remembering. He glanced at the clock. It was nearing seven o'clock. The race was at ten.

He pushed himself up off the floor. He was sore from sleeping on the floor. In a few minutes, he had showered, dressed eaten and was headed out the door. He needed some air.

* * *

The track started at the gates of Speedway City. It took drivers across the Waste Lands and then through the Ring of Fire. It was difficult to say what kind of obsticles they would be facing because it the Waste Lands and Ring of Fire were so unpredictable. After, and _if_, the drivers got through the Ring, they entered the enclosed spaces of the Water Works. They had to find the best and quickest way through the maze of hallways, avoiding those that had flooded. Again, no one knew for sure which was the safest and fastest way through. The doors were motion sensitive, so any door could open up to a tidal wave of water. And, if the lucky ones who managed to escape the flood, they went through an underground tunnel and came up on to Speedway Beach.

Leonardo studied the map. "I don't want to do it," he moaned.

"Everyone has to do it," Donatello told him gravely.

"You've done it. Can't you tell me where to go?" Leonardo asked.

"Go to your happy place," Michelangelo spoke up.

Donatello smiled. He went back to working on his car.

"I don't even have a car," Leonardo voiced.

"They provide the cars," Donatello answered.

Leonardo frowned. Donatello's voice carried a hint of mischief. Something told him that one of those cars held the engineer's signature. Just then, April and Casey came into the garage.

"The race is about to start," April announced.

After Donatello closed the garage, the friends made their way to the starting line. A crowd had quickly gathered. Leonardo felt his stomach knot. Nine other people were walking around, looking for the best car to drive.

"I really don't want to do this," Leonardo whispered.

He felt something being pushed into his hand. He looked down to find himself holding on to a set of keys.

"White Ferrari. Fifth place," someone whispered to him.

Leonardo looked around but didn't see anyone. He tigthened his grip of the keys and made his way over to the car in fifth place. He opened the door and climbed in. It had the same interior design as his friend's cars, right down to the built-in computer. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. He pulled on the seat belt and waited for the race to start.

_Calm down, Leo. You'll be fine,_ he told himself. _Who am I kidding? I'll be lucky to come out of this thing alive._

Just then, the computer screen turned on.

"How're you doin', kid?"

"Raph?"

"Thought you might need encouraging."

"What I need is a miracle."

Raphael laughed. Leonardo smiled, his nerves seemed to be calming down.

"You'll do fine, kid," Raphael said.

A buzzer sounded, signalling drivers to get ready.

"See you at the finish line."

The screen turned off. Leonardo took another deep breath and flexed his grip on the wheel. As the lights changed, the drivers revved their engines. The light turned green and the cars shot forward. The qualifier had started.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

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	9. The Qualifier

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

* * *

Bishop watched from his office as the ten racers made their way across the Waste Lands. He smiled. The nine drivers that Tyra had chosen were some of the most ruthless drivers on the island. This wasn't going to be an easy first race for Summers.

Bishop's smile slowly turned into a frown. He wondered if he had made the right choice in making Raphael Leonardo's recruiter. Pyro had been showing signs of gaining some form of free will, along with his own personality. He had only been around Summers for a day and already Raphael had stepped out of line.

_As long as he knows who is in charge,_ Bishop thought.

Meanwhile, Leonardo was having a difficult time keeping his spot in fourth place. He had been lucky to make it this far up. The other drivers had been pounding him, trying to force him off the track.

_Well, they wouldn't call it the qualifier if it wasn't difficult,_ Leonardo told himself.

Someone slammed into him from behind. His car was sent into a dizzy spin. Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut to keep himself from getting sick. The car came to a halt against a boulder. Leonardo kept his foot on the brake and tried to catch his breath.

Back at the starting line, everyone was watching the race on the monitors that had been set up. Raphael was inside watching on one of the announcer's monitors.

_What are you doin', kid? Get out of there._

Leonardo shook his head. The sound of shifting rock made him look in the rear-view mirror. The boulder had turned into some kind of rock creature. Leonardo let out a startled cry and floored the gas. Tires screamed and the car shot forward with the rock creature right behind it. Out in front, one of the racers chuckled. On his computer screen the other drivers could be seen.

"Another newbie bites the dust," he said.

A roar rang out.

"What the?" another driver started.

"Is that..."

The white Ferrari came racing through the dust. The other drivers saw what was following it and immediately sped up. Leonardo kept looking over his shoulder to see where the creature was.

"Eyes on the road. Eyes on the road," Raphael muttered under his breath.

Leonardo nearly crashed into another boulder as he tried to out run the monster that was trying to kill him. He drove through a gorge, effectively losing the creature, only to find himself entering the Ring of Fire. The car instantly began to heat up. The computer screen flickered on.

_"Heat shields, activated,"_ a computerized female voice announced.

"Thank you?" Leonardo guessed.

He could see the others. Keeping as far away from the sides as possible, Leonardo quickly closed the gap. The screen began to beep.

_"Geyser eruption in five seconds,"_ the voice told the driver.

"Say what?"

_"Five..."_

Leonardo picked up speed.

_"Four..."_

The ground began to shake.

"This isn't happening."

_"Three..."_

"Kid, get out of there," Raphael urged.

_"Two..."_

Leonardo looked around for a place to escape.

_"One..."_

He drove into a cave just as molten lava swept over the track. He gasped for breath, but continued on. He could still see the others. Ten more minutes were spent driving through falling ash and outrunning lava flows. Finally, they let fire behind and drove into the exact opposite.

_"Welcome to the Water Works,"_ the computerized female voice said.

Information screens popped up as Leonardo tried to navigate through the twisting hallways.

_"The Water Works was built to direct water away from Speedway City during construction. However, it was abandoned shortly after the construction of the city due to a malfunction."_

"What malfunction?" Leonardo asked, suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic.

Where was the exit? He felt like he had been driving around for hours. He had lost sight of the other nine and he had a sinking feeling that something really bad was going to happen really soon.

He drove through a hall that had a glass wall. Leonardo realized that he was underwater.

_That's a good thing, right? The exit is supposed to be underground._

Meanwhile, the other drivers were having a difficult time trying to find their way out.

"I've done this track three times before and I've always gotten out," one of them grumbled. "Why can't I find my way out now?"

The base began to groan. Wherever the drivers were, they all stopped. Leonardo put his car in park, turned off the engine and got out of the car.

"Where's he going?" Donatello asked.

"Dude, _never_ leave your car!" Michelangelo yelled, even though Leonardo couldn't hear him.

Leonardo walked around, trying to find the source of the noise. The base groaned again, and this time, the glass began to crack. Soon, water began to seep in.

"Time to go."

Leonardo was half way back to his car when the glass finally shattered. Forgetting the car, Leonardo zoomed down the hall on foot. As the water slammed into the Ferrari, the camera that was inside went dark.

April, Casey, Donatello and Michelangelo stared at the blank screen.

"Donny..."

"He wasn't inside," Donatello said. "He wasn't inside."

The security cameras from the Water Works were brought online. A massive tidal wave rushed through the hallway.

"But, now he has to outrun _that_," Casey pointed out.

"And he's on foot," April added.

* * *

This was not how it ended. He was not being taken out by a race track.

Leonardo ducked into a nearby room and closed the doors just as the water rushed by. He locked the door and was thankful that whoever built the base had made the doors able to withstand tidal waves.

"Now the question is, how do I get out of here?"

Leonardo looked around. He looked to be in the base's main control room. He went over to the control panel and turned the monitors on. Each monitor showed a different racer, and it looked like they were having just as much trouble getting out as Leonardo. Summers switched cameras and found what looked to be a garage.

"Looks like my ticket out of here."

He turned off the monitors and headed for a second door that was located on the other side of the room. He cautiously opened the door, and when no water gushed through, he stepped out into the hall. After what seemed like hours, Leonardo finally found the garage. He made his way inside and closed the door just as one of the other drivers went by. Leonardo gazed around the room. All sorts of vehicles were there. However, the one that caught his eye was an electric blue motorcycle.

He hurried over to the bike and climbed on. Unlike the cars, the motorcycle was completely computerized. The screen flickered on and revealed the shape of a hand. Leonardo placed his palm on the screen.

_"Scan complete,"_ the computerized voice said. _"Welcome, Leonardo Summers."_ The engine turned on. _"Destination?"_

"Speedway Beach," Leonardo replied.

The door opened and the bike shot forward.

Back in the city, everyone was trying to figure out what had happened to Leonardo. Suddenly, the announcer came on.

"Folks, we have re-established connection with Summers," he said.

On the monitors everyone could see Leonardo racing through the Water Works base.

"Cool bike," Michelangelo commented.

Donatello headed back to his car.

"Donny, where are you going?" Casey asked.

"The beach," Donatello answered.

The others followed him.

Back in the base, Leonardo was being pursued by yet another tidal wave. He had driven by a motion sensitive door which held back a flood.

"Can't this thing go any faster?"

_"Faster speed initiated."_

The bike picked up speed, but it wasn't enough to outrun the wave. He was pulled under just as he saw the exit. Donatello, April, Casey and Michelangelo arrived at Speedway Beach just as a huge wave burst out of the tunnel. The bike went flying, as did its rider. The motorcycle landed a few feet from the ocean waves while Leonardo landed a few feet from the tunnel.

"He's done it!" the announcer shouted. "He's done it! Leonardo Summers has won!"

"Leo!" April yelled.

Leonardo moaned and began the painful process of pushing himself up. He coughed and pushed his wet hair out of his face.

"Leo!"

His friends ran up and he was soon caught in the middle of a group hug.

"Guys, can't breathe," Leonardo gasped.

He was released and he could breathe again.

"You had us worried sick," Casey started.

"Sorry," Leonardo apologized.

"Well? How does it feel to be the winner of the qualifier?" Michelangelo asked.

As if to answer his question, Leonardo fell back on to the sand and fell asleep. The others smiled. Casey picked Leonardo up and they made their way to the car.

* * *

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As always, reviews are helpful while flames are hurtful.


	10. Brothers

Over the next few weeks, Leonardo noticed that people started treating him like he had lived on Speedway for years. He also noticed that Raphael hadn't been around much.

"He's probably on another recruiting mission," Casey said.

The gang was hanging out at the Race Track. Leonardo had confessed his concern about Raphael. It was evident that Donatello had kicked Michelangelo to stop him from saying something.

"Has anyone noticed that Raph has been acting weird ever since the qualifier?" Leonardo asked.

"Raph always acts weird," Michelangelo commented.

"Even when he's sick?" Leonardo asked.

"Everyone acts weird when they're sick," April pointed out.

Leonardo growled under his breath. They were hiding something from him. But, it was no use trying to ask them what it was. They would just deflect the conversation in a different direction. Summers poked the piece of lemon that was floating in his iced tea.

"So, what was that rock thing that tried to kill me in the Waste Lands?" he asked suddenly.

The question caught the others off guard. They just looked at each other.

"There's no point in denying it," Leonardo told them. "I saw it with my own eyes. So, you might as well tell me."

Donatello tapped his fingers against his glass. "The thing you saw was an experiment gone wrong," he began.

"What experiment?"

"There's a genetics lab somewhere on the island," April put in.

"Doctor Frankenstein's lab," Michelangelo muttered.

Leonardo swallowed. "So, someone performs experiments and ends up creating something like what tried to eat me?" he asked.

The others nodded. Summers fell back in his chair.

"What nutcase runs this island?" he asked.

"His name is Bishop."

Leonardo looked up, his brown eyes locking with amber eyes. Raphael looked more sickly than he did three weeks ago.

"Dude, you okay?" Casey asked.

Michelangelo got up and helped Raphael sit down.

"Here, Raph, sit down before you fall down," he said.

"Thanks, Mikey," Raphael moaned.

"What happened?" April asked.

Raphael buried his face in his hands. Leonardo thought back over the last few weeks. He had gone from Pyro the Speedway Terror to Raphael the Walking Dead. It didn't make sense. What also didn't make sense was the way Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, April and Casey treated each other. They acted as though they were from the same family.

Michelangelo had explained that April and Casey had lived in Speedway all their lives, and they had been the ones who had taken care of Raphael when he first arrived. And it had been Raphael who had brought him and Donatello to Speedway. So, they all knew each other really well.

"One big happy family," was what Michelangelo had called the gang. "And now we have a new brother."

Being an only child, Leonardo felt honored and slightly uncomfortable when Michelangelo had called him "brother". Summers glanced back at Raphael. He looked better than when he first arrived.

"Do want anything to drink?" Leonardo asked.

"Water's fine," Raphael answered.

Leonardo got up and went to the bar. He ordered a glass of water. The bartender gave him the glass. Leonardo turned around and was about to head back to the table when he bumped into someone. Water split down over both of them.

"Sorry," Leonardo apologized.

"My fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."

The girl brushed the water off of her shirt.

"I'm really sorry," Leonardo said again.

"Don't worry about it. Really." The girl looked up. Her blue eyes lit up. "You're Wave."

Leonardo blinked in confusion. "Who?"

"You're Wave. Leo Summers."

"Where did you get 'Wave'?" Leonardo asked.

"That's what everyone's calling you," the girl told him. "Seems like the Water Works didn't take too kindly to you during the qualifier."

"Oh. That."

The girl laughed. "I'm Tammy. I work with your friend, Donatello O'Connell."

"You work for Donny?"

Tammy nodded, quite proud of her job. "Yep. He's a great boss, and he has the patience of a saint. With employees and customers alike."

Leonardo smiled. "Yeah. That's Donny," he agreed.

He looked over at the table. He was glad to see that Raphael didn't look like he was about to pass out. Tammy followed his gaze.

"Pyro's taking a liking to you," she commented.

"Taking a liking to me?" Leonardo repeated.

"Usually it takes him months, if not _years_, to like someone. But, he took you under his wing the first day you got here," Tammy explained.

From the vantage point of the table, Casey could see someone head towards Leonardo and Tammy.

"Uh oh."

"What?" April asked.

"Trouble's headin' for Leo," Casey replied.

Raphael turned around. All he needed to see what the flame dyed hair to know who it was. He got to his feet and headed for the bar. Leonardo was still talking to Tammy when someone grabbed him and pulled him away from her. He was slammed into a nearby table. Glasses fell to the floor and shattered. The occupants scattered.

"You movin' in on my girl?"

Leonardo managed to push himself up. "Wha?"

"You movin' in on my girl?"

Leonardo looked up into cold, amber eyes. At first he thought Raphael had snapped. But, the attacker was too young and too soft to be Raphael. Tammy stormed up.

"What's the matter with you?" she shouted.

"What'd this guy do?"

"He didn't do anything."

"If he harmed you in any way..."

Leonardo tried to slip away, but the attacker grabbed his shirt and pinned him to the table.

"I swear, I didn't do anything," Leonardo insisted. "I accidentally bumped into her and I was apologizing."

"Make me believe you," the assailant hissed.

_Why doesn't someone pry this guy off of me?_ Leonardo wondered.

"Come on, Slick. Leave him alone," Tammy ordered, pulling on the young man's arm.

_It's gonna take more than that, Tammy,_ Leonardo thought.

Slick pushed Tammy away. "I'll teach you to mess with my girl."

He raised his fist. Leonardo squeezed his eyes shut. Slick was about to bring his fist down when someone grabbed his wrist. He turned around as Leonardo opened his eyes.

"That's enough, Slick," Raphael said.

Leonardo's eyes darted from Raphael to Slick, then back again. Slick was a younger, softer version of Raphael, but their eyes were just as cold. The room had fallen deathly silent. Leonardo was afraid to breathe. After what seemed like an eternity, Slick yanked his wrist out of Raphael's grip and released his prisoner. He shoved past Raphael and stormed out of the bar.

"You'd better go, too," Raphael told Tammy.

She nodded in agreement. "See ya 'round, Wave," she said to Leonardo.

She headed out the door. Raphael helped Leonardo to his feet.

"Show's over, folks," Michelangelo announced. "Go back to whatever it was you were doin'."

As life returned to normal, Leonardo brushed the glass off of his clothes.

"You okay, kid?" Raphael asked.

"I nearly got pounded for talking to someone," Leonardo said. "Of course I'm not okay."

He headed out into the sunlight. Donatello went after him.

"Leo, wait up," he called.

"Go away," Leonardo barked.

Donatello caught up and quickly fell into step along side his friend.

"Come on, Leo, talk to me. I can't help you if you won't talk."

"I needed help _in there_. And I _was_ talking. No one tired to pry that guy off of me," Leonardo spat.

"Tammy tried," Donatello pointed out.

_Yeah,_ Leonardo agreed silently, suddenly feeling guilty.

"I know this isn't much of an excuse, but, no one's brave enough to take on Slick. The guy has a temper as short as his brother, if not shorter," Donatello explained.

Leonardo gave Donatello a sideways glance. "Who's his brother?" he wanted to know.

Donatello smiled, irony radiated from the expression.

"Raph is."

* * *

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	11. Longing

**A/N**: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. Your reviews help tremendously.

* * *

Raphael watched as his brother's car zoomed past the finish line, ending the ongoing street race. He wasn't surprised. He, Raphael, had taught Slick everything he knew.

_But not everything_ I_ know,_ Raphael thought.

Slick parked the car near the sidewalk and got out. Raphael pushed away from the window. He disappeared into the washroom and a few minutes later, Slick walked through the door. It was apparent that he was quite pleased with himself for winning.

"Don't get cocky, kid."

Slick jumped and shot around to find his older brother leaning against the wall. His arms were crossed and he had his famous "You're in serious trouble" look.

"What'd I do now?" Slick asked.

"Ya got guts, I'll give ya that," Raphael said.

"Mind explainin' a bit more?" Slick inquired.

"What was that little stunt you pulled yesterday?"

"What stunt?" Slick asked smugly, playing dumb.

Raphael's glare grew more dangerous, which made the younger of the two shift uncomfortably on his feet. His brother's glare was able to make even the most strong willed person spill their deepest, darkest secrets.

"The stunt you pulled at the Race Track. You tried to punch someone out."

"You mean that Summers guy?" Slick asked.

Raphael slowly nodded. Slick shrugged, clearly nervous. This had the potential of ending very badly.

"What about it?" he wanted to know.

There was a heavy silence. Slick swallowed hard. He knew the words before they left Raphael's mouth. The two words no decent racer wanted to hear.

"You're busted," Raphael said slowly and deliberately.

Slick ran his fingers through his hair. "You're busted" was what every agent who worked for Bishop said when one of the racers got on Bishop's bad side. No one wanted to hear those words, they only brought trouble. Raphael had used them the most. He also used them when Slick got on his nerves. But, the youngest brother knew that it was Bishop Raphael was referring to.

"You've done it this time," Raphael said, standing up straight. "You went and landed yourself in Bishop's black book."

"So what? You're in the book," Slick pointed out. "So is Tyra. So are hundreds of others."

"But, do I care what happens to them?"

Slick looked out the window. "Obviously not," he muttered.

Raphael shook his head. He could feel himself beginning to lose his cool. Over the years he had managed to gain some form of control over his short fused temper, but when it came to Slick, he was a ticking time bomb.

"What's so special about Summers, anyway?" Slick demanded. "Why is Bishop so interested in him?"

"I just do what I'm told, Slick. I don't ask questions," Raphael answered.

Slick nodded. "Right. That's why you're not dead yet."

The next thing Slick knew, he was up against the wall in one of Raphael's death grips.

"You think this is a game?" his brother roared. "Any day could be your last as a free human being and you want to waste it."

"Raph...can't breathe," Slick gasped.

Raphael released his brother and Slick dropped to the floor, gasping for air. Raphael was also panting; his blood like fire in his veins. Slick looked up at him.

"I don't want to waste it," he spat.

"Then why are you trying so hard?" Raphael asked.

Slick got to his feet. "Because I _want_ to be where you are. I _want_ to have your position of power."

"Of all things...why this?"

Slick's eyes grew darker. Raphael thought he saw a hint of jealousy in his brother's eyes, but, then again, Slick was sometimes harder to read than Raphael himself.

"You think you're so high and mighty because you work for Bishop. All my life I've lived in your shadow. It's always been about you. Well, not anymore. I'll show Bishop that I'm just as good, if not better, than his precious Pyro."

And with that, Slick stormed out of the apartment. Raphael was silent as he thought about his brother's words. He looked down at his right forearm. The flame tattoo was a lock, a curse. It was a symbol to remind those who worked for Bishop that they belonged to him. Why Slick would want to throw away his freedom for a life of servitude puzzled Raphael, and it also scared him.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, Raph. It's Don. Your car's ready for pick up."

"Thanks, Donny. I'll be right there."

* * *

"I don't see anything different," Leonardo confessed, examining the Vanquish inside and out.

"That's because your simple mortal eyes are not trained in the art that it car building," Donatello teased.

Michelangelo snorted a laugh and hid his face behind a comic book. Leonardo looked from Michelangelo then to Donatello.

"Very funny, Braincase," he said.

Donatello chuckled. He opened the driver side door and got in. Leonardo climbed into the passenger' seat. There were a few modifications, one of which was a lever built into the gear shift.

"What's that?" Leonardo asked, pointing to the lever.

Donatello looked down at the gear shift. "That is for the nitro boosters," he replied.

Leonardo blinked. Then he looked up and stared at Donatello.

"The what?" he asked bluntly.

"Raph just wanted a basic tune up. I did more than that." Donatello tapped the dash board. "This puppy is now faster than it ever was before."

"Dude, you messed with a _Vanquish_?" Leonardo asked.

"Did you just say 'dude'?" Michelangelo piped up.

Leonardo shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Donny, you don't mess with this kind of car."

"Who's the car expert here?" Donatello asked.

"I may not be a racer, Don, but I know my cars," Leonardo protested.

"And speaking of which, what are you two doin' in mine?" Raphael asked, walking into the garage.

Donatello and Leonardo scrambled to get out of the car. The engineer tossed Raphael the keys.

"She's all yours, Raph."

"Thanks again, Donny."

Raphael got in behind the wheel. "Uh...Don? What's with the extra handle?"

Leonardo whacked Donatello in the back of the head.

"Donny? What did you do to my car?" Raphael asked.

Everything went silent for a couple of seconds.

"I...uh...added something," Donatello told him.

"What something?"

"Nitro boosters," Michelangelo blurted out.

Raphael's eyes widened. Leonardo slapped his hand over his eyes and Donatello stiffened. No one messed with Raphael's car.

"Nitro, huh?" Pyro asked. "Nice."

Everyone looked at him. Donatello held his breath.

"So, I'm not dead?" he asked.

"If you were dead you wouldn't be talkin'," Raphael pointed out.

Donatello released the air that he had been holding. "I have to warn you though, the engine hasn't had time to adjust to the nitro. I recommend waiting a few days before testing them," he advised.

"Whatever you say, Donny-boy," Raphael said, starting the car.

He closed the door and pulled on his seat belt. Before leaving he turned to Leonardo.

"Hey, kid. Wanna go for a ride?" he asked. "Get ya used to high speeds."

Leonardo gave Donatello and Michelangelo a quick glance. They both nodded towards the car as if to say, "Go for it".

"Uh...okay."

Leonardo hesitantly made his way to the passenger's seat. As soon as the door was shut, the car was out of the garage. Leonardo pulled on his seat belt as fast as he could. Raphael laughed.

"I ain't gonna crash," he assured his passenger.

"Do you _always_ drive this fast?" Leonardo asked.

"I ain't slowin' down."

"I'm not brave enough to tell you to."

As time went on, Leonardo found himself getting used to travelling at such a high speed and he began to relax. Raphael drummed his fingers against the lever that would ignite the nitro. Feeling a bit nervous, Leonardo cautiously pointed something out.

"Don said the engine isn't used to the nitro yet," he said. "So, please, take it nice and..." Raphael pulled the lever and the car shot forward like a bullet out of a gun. "SLOW!" Leonardo screamed. He was slammed into the back of the seat.

"Yeeha!" Raphael shouted. "This is what I call a successful field test. Wouldn't you, kid?"

"No! Slow down!" Leonardo yelled.

The Vanquish zoomed by the Race Track. Slick glared at the retreating car. Tyra was in a coffee shop a few blocks away. She was sipping coffee and reading a magazine when Raphael's car raced by. She looked up just in time to lock glances with Leonardo for a quick second before the car disappeared around the corner.

"Who was that?" Leonardo asked.

"Who was who?" Raphael asked back.

"That girl in the coffee shop we just passed."

Raphael swallowed. "What'd she look like?"

Leonardo shrugged. All he could remember was her eyes and hair. When he looked into her grey-blue eyes a chill had shot up his spine.

"Kid?"

"She had grey-blue eyes and long silver hair," Leonardo answered. He looked at Raphael who pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Who is she?"

The car slowed down as the light changed to red. Back at the cafe, Tyra took out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"Yes?" Bishop answered.

"I have made contact with Summers. What do you want me to do?" Tyra asked.

"Keep a close watch on both him and Raphael."

"Yes, sir."

Tyra went to hang up, but Bishop stopped her.

"Especially watch Raphael. He could tell Summers everything before the time is right. If he shows signs of breaking, I give you permission to take him down."

Tyra swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," she said. She hung up.

"Who is she?" Leonardo asked again.

Raphael took a deep breath. "Her name is Tyra," he finally replied. "And if you ever cross her path, turn and run the other way."

* * *

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	12. Information

_The darkness exploded into a world of noise. Buzzing that sounded like voices hummed around him and he felt something pressing down on his chest. He gasped in pain and the pressure lifted._

_"He's back," one of the buzzing voices announced._

_"Leo?" another voice, a woman, called. "Leo!"_

_Leonardo pried his eyes open. A light pole looked down at him, along with three paramedics. The woman's voice grew louder, and her cries eventually became screams. A police officer held her back._

_"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't go any further," he told her._

_"That's my son!"_

Mom?

_He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't open. Panic took over and he tried to move, but his body wouldn't work. He felt numb._

I can't move. I can't feel my body. Oh, please, don't tell me I'm paralysed.

_"Leo!" his mother screamed again._

_"Your son is fine, ma'am," one of the paramedics called over his shoulder._

No, I'm _not_ fine,_ Leonardo silently protested._ I'm paralysed and you say I'm fine? What kind of paramedic are you?

_"What happened?" he heard his mother demand._

Yes. What happened? How did I end up outside?

_"There was an accident a block from here. We believe your son wasn't wearing his seat belt and was thrown from the car."_

I was so wearing my seat belt,_ Leonardo protested._

_Then he remembered taking it off to search the back seat for a CD. The last thing he saw was the blinding headlights of a truck. Then, everything went black._

How am I even alive?

_Another thought hit him. His father. The other driver. Searing pain shot down his spine and he screamed. On the bright side at least he could feel again._

_"Don't try to move," one of the paramedics instructed._

_"My...my dad," Leonardo gasped. "My dad."_

_"Don't talk," the man told him._

_Leonardo shook his head. "Where's my dad?" he demanded._

_"He's in another ambulance," the man answered. "Now, please, don't talk." He turned to his co-workers. "Let's get him out of here."_

_Very carefully, they lifted Leonardo on to a stretcher and put him in an ambulance. Another stretcher was in the back. The patient was severely burned. Through the burnt flesh, Leonardo could see the outline of a flame tattoo on the man's right forearm._

_"How's my dad?" Leonardo whispered._

_"He's fine," a paramedic answered._

_"What about the other driver?" Leonardo asked, his voice growing softer._

_He was sure the man replied, but he never heard the answer. Everything once again turned to black._

When Leonardo opened his eyes again, he was staring at the ceiling of his Speedway apartment. He ran his hands down his face and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. If he wasn't having nightmares about the accident he was dreaming about Tyra. Why he was dreaming about her was beyond him. He didn't even know her. Leonardo let his arms fall to his sides and he looked over at the clock. Six-thirty on a Saturday morning. One month since he had been arrested. Nearly four years since the accident and he was only now finding out the identity of the truck driver.

_Was Raph trying to tell me something?_ Leonardo wondered. _Was he trying to jog a memory? "Collision with a fuel truck". That's what he said. Was he talking about that accident, or another one?_ He groaned. _It's too early to figure it out. I'll ask him about it at training._

He rolled over and was about to fall back to sleep when his cell phone rang. He sighed and picked up the device.

"This had better be good," he growled.

"Are you doin' anythin' important?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo slapped his hand over his eyes. "What do you want?" he moaned.

"I need ya down at Donny's garage," Raphael answered.

"What for? I'm sleeping."

"I've got somethin' to show ya."

Leonardo sighed. He needed to talk to Raphael anyway. "Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes."

He snapped the phone shut.

* * *

A few minutes later found Leonardo walking into Donatello's garage. Michelangelo, Donatello, Raphael, April and Casey were waiting for him. Leonardo was still rubbing his tired eyes when he joined his friends. A tarp was draped over something, which had the obvious shape of a car.

"It's too early for a Saturday," he complained.

"This will be worth it," Raphael told him.

Donatello took a hold of the tarp. "For your one month Speedway anniversary, we thought it was about time you had your own car," he explained.

"One that's water proof," Michelangelo joked.

Leonardo had one month and ten races under his belt. Most of those races were inside the Water Works, and it seemed like the base didn't like Summers at all. Every chance it got it threw water into his path. He was beginning to live up to his new nickname.

_Well, I have to admit, "Wave" is a lot better than "Blue",_ Leonardo thought.

"So, without further ado, may I present to you, Leonardo 'Wave' Summers, your very own..."

Donatello pulled off the tarp, revealing the car. The air caught in Leonardo's throat. The Ferrari was a dark blue. The top half of the car had the design of white water rapids. It was so realistic it was unbelievable.

"Kid? You okay?" Raphael asked.

"Say something," April said.

Michelangelo waved his hand in front of Leonardo's face. "Dudes, I think we overloaded his brain."

"Whoa," Leonardo finally breathed.

He went over to the car and ran his hand over the roof of the car. He almost expected to get his hand wet. The paint job was amazing, the car design was awesome, and only Donatello knew how fast the thing could go.

"Thank you," Leonardo said, his voice soft.

"You like it?" Donatello asked.

"I love it," Leonardo told him. "Who wants to go for a ride?"

"Shot gun!" Michelangelo yelled.

He dashed to the passenger's side door and climbed in.

"Have fun," Casey said, tossing Leonardo the keys.

Leonardo, Raphael and Donatello all climbed in. Summers started the car, adrenaline instantly shooting through his system as he heard the beautiful purr of the engine.

"I'm lovin' this more and more," he said.

He put the car in drive and floored the gas. The car shot forward like a rocket. All four occupants were slammed into their seats. Leonardo eased off the gas, but didn't slow down. He heard the others laugh and chuckle, but he didn't care. This was too much fun.

_You've finally accepted your racing roots. Good for you,_ the racing side of his mind congratulated him.

_And here I thought you swore never to go down that road,_ the rational part of his mind pointed out.

Leonardo shook his head. It was like he had developed a split personality after the accident. However, his parents had told him that they had often seen him talking to himself when he was a small child. So, it was apparent that the voices he heard had been around for a while.

"You lookin' where you're goin'?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo blinked back to reality. He slowed the car down and came to a stop in front of a tall, jet black skyscraper. The building wasn't all black. The bottom half of it was painted like a flame.

_Odd painting scheme,_ Leonardo thought.

Raphael looked up at the top windows. He could almost feel Bishop's eyes piercing into the car. His right hand tightened into a fist.

"Kid, it's almost time for trainin'," he said.

"Right," Leonardo agreed, tearing his eyes away from the building. He drove off.

Bishop watched as the blue Ferrari drove away. He had been keeping close tabs on Leonardo over the past month and nothing was out of the ordinary. He was a normal, average teenager. But, that was enough to raise suspicions. Bishop had learned a long time ago that no matter how ordinary a person appeared to be, they were far from it. He heard someone walk into the office.

"Agent Bishop?"

"Yes?"

"I have the file you wanted on Summers."

"Leave it on the desk," Bishop instructed.

The agent placed the file on the desk and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Bishop went over to the desk and picked up the file. He opened it and flipped through the papers. The file contained everything about the subject's life. Where he was born, what school he went to, what marks he got in school, and, most importantly, his medical records.

"Interesting," Bishop said as he read down through Leonardo's medical history.

At age five he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. Though he was given medication to help keep it under control, his parents and even his doctor said that it wasn't doing anything. As he grew older, Leonardo refused to take anything for his schizophrenia. Reluctantly, his parents had agreed to take him off the medication. The doctor predicted disaster, however, Leonardo proved to be in complete control, though he would slip every now and then. After his father disappeared when he was eleven, Leonardo had to be hospitalized because his more reckless, destructive side came out.

As Bishop read on, he found notes taken by the psychiatrist Leonardo had been sent to when he was twelve. It described the traits of the voices Summers heard and often talked to. One voice was calm, patient, and reasonable. It was the voice Leonardo claimed he always listened to. He said his conscience had finally learned how to talk. However, where one voice was reasonable, the other was the complete opposite. It was reckless, impatient, and could get dangerous if it was angry. It hated failing and always wanted to be in control, whether it was of its victim or of a situation, it mattered not. So, when Leonardo's father disappeared, the voice and the boy both lost it. What made it worse was that he had been studying martial arts. After years of training, Leonardo was now a black belt in ninjistu.

By now, Bishop was smiling evilly. Who knew that the level-headed newbie harnessed such dangerous talent? Armed with the new information, Bishop made his way down to the lab that occupied the lower levels of the building. A plan was beginning to form.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

Reviews are always welcome, flames are worthless.


	13. Old Friends

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. Your reviews are greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one

* * *

The building was the tallest in Speedway City, mostly because Bishop liked to keep his eye on things and the height of the building offered a good vantage point. Though it looked like a normal skyscraper there was hardly any windows, save for Bishop's office. If there were windows they were painted black to hide them from the outside. The top half of the building, or the Watch Tower as some of the agents called it, were mostly offices and apartments for the agents who were truly loyal to their employer. The lower half of the building was reserved for the countless labs that Bishop ran. No agents actually knew what went on within the labs. There was also a hidden lab somewhere in the Waste Lands that specialized in genetic research and mutation, hence the monsters that roamed the desert.

Bishop walked into the largest lab in the Watch Tower and went over to the lead scientist.

"Good morning, Dr. Stockman," he greeted.

The man looked up from his paper work. "Good morning, Agent Bishop. How may I be of assistance today?" he asked.

Bishop dropped the file on to the desk. Stockman picked the folder up and began to flip through it. Like Bishop, he was quite interested in the subject's medical history.

"Let me guess, you want me to come up with something that will bring out the boy's inner demon," Stockman said.

"Correct," Bishop answered.

Stockman stood up and walked over to the newest addition to his team, an over-excited young man. He had fiery red hair and would do almost anything to please his boss and his boss's boss.

"Dr. Chaplin," Stockman spoke.

Chaplin quickly looked up from his work. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

"We have a new project," Stockman told him.

He gave the file to Chaplin, who skimmed through it.

"Our job is to develop a serum that will..."

"Allow Summer's destructive side to come out?" Chaplin guessed.

"Exactly," Stockman confirmed.

"I'll get started on it right away."

And with that, Chaplin hurried off. Stockman turned to Bishop.

"I'm thinking about making him the head scientist when I retire," he explained.

"We'll see," Bishop said. "If his serum works then I'll write his name down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work."

"Of course, Agent Bishop."

Bishop walked out of the lab. If Chaplin was as good as what Stockman always said, then there was a possibility that the serum would be ready within the week.

* * *

"Keep drivin' like that and you'll end up in the Waste Lands lab," Raphael teased.

Leonardo tried to catch his breath. He had nearly caused a five car pile up when he lost control of the car. The other drivers were no doubt raving mad, but Raphael, who no doubt had taught worse students, was enjoying himself.

"That's not funny," Leonardo barked.

"Kid, ya gotta learn how to relax. If ya don't relax then you're gonna have a major accident," Raphael explained.

_Like the one _he_ caused?_ an annoyed voice spat.

Leonardo shook his head.

"You okay?" Raphael asked.

"Yeah. Just shaky, that's all," Leonardo answered. "I'm still not used to this."

"It comes with practice." He looked out the driver's side window. "And speaking of practice."

Leonardo turned to see what Raphael was looking at. A jet black car with a lightning bolt paint job pulled up beside the Ferrari. Behind the wheel was none other than Slick. The look in his eyes told Leonardo that a race was about to start.

"I can't do it."

"'Course ya can."

"He already hates me. Why do you want to make it worse?" Leonardo asked.

His eyes drifted down to Raphael's right forearm.

_It wasn't his fault,_ a second voice told him.

_Of course it was his fault. He was driving the truck that crashed into the pick-up,_ the first voice argued.

_What do you know?_ the second voice snapped.

_A lot more than you._

Leonardo looked away. He quickly glanced in the rear-view mirror then did a double take. Two people were sitting in the back seat. The boys were around Leonardo's age. Each shared the same forest green eyes. However, one had messy dark brown hair while the other had neat dirty blonde hair.

"It's like he's never seen us before," the one with the dark brown hair said.

"It's almost been five years, Toxis. He probably doesn't remember us," the second one said.

Leonardo shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

"Slick's waitin', kid," Raphael put in.

Summers nodded at Slick, who nodded back. The computer screen flickered on and a street map came up.

"A long way for a drag race," Leonardo commented.

"He's scared," Toxis taunted.

"He's _cautious_."

"Whatever, Maddy."

Leonardo ignored the people in the back and concentrated on the race. After a couple of seconds revving their engines, Slick and Leonardo pulled their cars into drive and shot forward.

"I'm impressed," Toxis commented. "And here I thought you lost your adventurous side."

"Shut up," Leonardo ordered.

"I didn't sat anything," Raphael said.

Leonardo didn't reply. He picked up speed and pulled out in front just in time to cross the finish line. Leonardo put the car in park and turned off the engine. He ran his hands down his face.

"You okay?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo shook his head. He looked up and glanced in the rear-view mirror. Toxis and Maddy were gone. Leonardo leaned over and buried his head in his hands.

"It wasn't _that_ frightening," Raphael told him.

_It wasn't the race I'm scared of,_ Leonardo mentally replied. _It's Toxis and Maddy. I haven't seen them since I was twelve. I thought I locked them away. How did they get loose?_

Raphael patted him on the shoulder. "It comes with practice. And tomorrow's practice will be at eight." He got out of the car. But before he closed the door he stuck his head back inside. "A word of advice."

Leonardo looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Don't blurt out anything unless someone says something to ya. Ya keep doin' that and people might think you're talkin' to yourself."

Raphael closed the door and walked away.

"How convenient. That's exact what happened."

Leonardo looked in the mirror. Toxis and Maddy waved at him.

"Hey, Leo," Toxis said. "We're back."

* * *

Let me know what you think.

Reviews are welcome, flames are useless.


	14. Out of Control

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed.

* * *

The sun beat its merciless heat down on to Speedway City. Summer had officially arrived. It was the one time of year where Speedway City became like any other normal city. The street races were put on hold for a while, the cars were locked up safe and sound in private garages, and the beach was filled with people.

Leonardo stared at the massive waves that crashed up against the shore. He gulped. As promised, Michelangelo had loaned Leonardo one of his prized surfboards and had dragged him down to the beach for a crash course in surfing.

"It's not that bad," Donatello told him, stretching out on his towel. "Mikey's a good teacher...when it comes to surfing, that is."

"Stick with Raph for racing," Casey added.

Leonardo ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't want to do this," he moaned.

"You said the same thing about racing, and now look where you are," Michelangelo voiced as he walked up.

"I don't have a single surfing bone in my body," Leonardo protested.

"Don't care. I told you I was gonna get you on a board and that's what I'm gonna do."

Michelangelo pushed Leonardo towards the water. Donatello and Casey chuckled.

"This should be interesting," the engineer commented.

And it was. Leonardo spent most of the first half hour of his lesson in the water more than on the board. Michelangelo was almost doubled over in pain from laughing so hard.

"Are you gonna let him make a fool out of you, Leo?"

Leonardo looked up to see Toxis sitting on the surfboard. Summers ignored him and climbed back on. He directed the board back towards the on-coming waves. He turned the board around and paddled for the beach. The wave picked the board up, and very carefully, Leonardo stood up. He heard Michelangelo cheering.

"Not bad," Toxis commented.

_I wonder..._

Leonardo flipped the board, sending both him and Toxis into the water.

"What'd he do that for?" Casey asked.

"Aw," Michelangelo whined. "And he was doing so good, too."

Donatello frowned. He knew Leonardo long enough to know his personality. Summers was calm, collected, patient. He was always in control of his emotions and he hated showing weakness. He was also something of a perfectionist. His apartment was always clean, everything had its place. Donatello determined it was from the martial arts training Leonardo had went through in previous years.

But, over the last couple of months, Leonardo's personality had shifted. He became irritable rather quickly, and he was prone to random out bursts. He lost his temper more times than Raphael, and he was more deadly when he was mad. And, at some points, it was like he was trying to ignore someone, though no one was speaking to him.

Raphael had told Donatello about Leonardo sometimes talking to himself. And, being a former medical student, Donatello had launched himself into researching the symptoms. What he had found wasn't what he had wanted to find.

"Donny? You okay, bro?" Michelangelo asked.

Donatello blinked, then nodded. "I'm fine," he answered.

Leonardo walked up to the group and dropped the board. Without saying a word, he headed off towards the boardwalk. The others watched him disappear into the crowd.

"What's up with him?" Casey asked.

"He's been actin' a little wacko for the last couple of months," Michelangelo put in. "What gives?"

Leonardo walked up to a small, open bar. As soon as he sat down a waitress walked over. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a sky blue bikini top and a mini skirt.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked.

"Lemonade, please," Leonardo replied.

The girl walked over to the drink shelves. While he waited, Leonardo looked around the bar. Many faces he recognized from previous races.

"Reminds me of Florida."

Leonardo looked to his left and found Maddy sitting next to him. He buried his face in his hands, pretending to wipe water off his face.

"Somethin' wrong?" Maddy asked.

"Go away," Leonardo hissed, without moving his lips.

"That's like telling a tornado to not cause destruction," Maddy pointed out.

"Here you go," the girl said, placing a tall glass in front of Leonardo.

He paid her and she walked away. Leonardo took the straw and gently stirred his drink. Maddy had finally vanished, but he would be back, along with Toxis. Leonardo sighed and finally took a sip. He winced as the bitter taste hit his tongue. Lemonade wasn't supposed to be that bitter. However, he drank it anyway. After he was done, the girl came back and took the glass.

"Are you okay?" she asked, as Leonardo rubbed his eyes.

"Just a headache. I think I've been in the sun too long," Leonardo told her.

"Then, you should get out of the sun," the girl suggested.

"Yeah," Leonardo agreed. He stood up. "See ya."

"See ya."

Summers walked away. He went over to where Donatello, Michelangelo and Casey were.

"Welcome back, Leo," Michelangelo greeted.

Leonardo went over to where his towel was spread out under a sun umbrella and collapsed in the shade. Donatello bolted up right when his friend passed out. He went into doctor mode.

"Is he okay, Don?" Casey asked.

Donatello moved Leonardo on to his side, receiving an agonized moan as a response.

"He's still alert. He's probably suffering from heat stroke," Donatello explained. "Let's get him home."

The friends packed their things up and headed back to Leonardo's apartment. After getting him into some dry clothes, Donatello and Casey carefully lowered Leonardo into bed. Michelangelo turned the ceiling fan on full blast and opened the window. Leaving the door open so the air could circulate, the three standing friends made their way out to the living room.

"There's no point in all of us staying here. You guys head home," Donatello instructed.

"You sure, Donny?" Casey asked.

"I'm sure. Leo's not going anywhere. If I need something I'll call."

"Okay. See ya."

Casey and Michelangelo disappeared out the door. Donatello sat down on the couch and stretched out. Soon, he joined Leonardo in the cool darkness of sleep.

* * *

A sharp pain jolted Leonardo's from sleep. It felt like someone was driving a knife through his stomach. He forced himself out of bed and into the washroom, slamming the door and effectively waking Donatello up. He heard the sound of someone retching and scrambled to get to his feet. He went to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Leo? You okay in there?" he called.

More retching answered him. Leonardo grasped his stomach and also gripped the sink counter. He managed to get a wet cloth and run it down his face.

"This is a fine mess you've gotten yourself into," Toxis scowled from his perch on the bath tub.

"Shut up," Leonardo moaned, his words muffled by the cloth.

Donatello frowned. "Leo?"

"You're just mad because you know I'm right," Toxis continued. "You made someone angry enough to poison you and now you're feeling like an idiot because you didn't catch on before it was too late."

"I told you to shut up," Leonardo yelled.

"Leo, who are you talking to?" Donatello asked.

There was a crash against the door, making Donatello step back.

"Stay out of this, Don!" Leonardo roared.

Toxis laughed and clapped. "This is too rich. Do you know how many years I've tried to make you lose it?" He laughed again. "This is even better than when your dad disappeared."

Leonardo grabbed the first thing his fingers grasped and threw it at Toxis. However, it just went straight through him and crashed against the wall. Toxis looked down at the broken soap dish with an amused look on his face.

"Why you're throwing things at me is questionable. If you want to throw stuff, throw them at Donny-boy out there. At least they'll make contact," he explained.

"Leo, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on," Donatello shouted.

"Oh, yes. By all means, spill your heart and soul into someone you've only just met two months ago," Toxis spoke. "How do you know _he's_ not the one who poisoned you? He _was_ in medical school after all. He could have easily given someone the poison to slip into your drink."

Donatello was about to knock again when the door opened. He found himself staring into the angry brown eyes of Leonardo.

"Leo? You feelin' okay?" the engineer asked.

"He poisoned you, and he's asking if you're okay? Who does this guy think he is?" Toxis asked.

"You've got three seconds to get out of my apartment before I make you regret for ever trying to pull a stunt like that again," Leonardo threatened.

"What stunt? What are you talking about?" Donatello demanded.

"One..."

Donatello backed up towards the door. "Leo, what's wrong with you?"

"Two..."

He wasn't going to make it to the door in time. Even if he ran, Leonardo would be on top of him before he could grab the handle. Donatello grabbed something to defend himself with.

"Three."

Leonardo sprang. Donatello brought up his defense weapon, which ended up being the broom, and knocked Leonardo off course.

"Cheap shot!" Toxis yelled, though Donatello couldn't see or hear him. "Dude, are you just gonna take that? He attacked you in your own home."

"Leo, I don't know what's gotten into you, but whatever it is you need serious medical help," Donatello said.

Leonardo pushed himself up.

"That's what your mom said, and look where it got you. Two weeks in the loony bin," Toxis sneered.

Leonardo grabbed the sword that sat on top of the TV and pulled it out of the sheath. Donatello's eyes widened and he gulped. If he lived to get out the door he was going to give Michelangelo a serious talking to about buying Leonardo real swords. And the fact that he was extremely skilled with a sword didn't make the situation better.

_How am I gonna get out of this?_ he asked himself.

However, he didn't have time to answer his question. Leonardo came at him with full force. Donatello blocked the attacks as best as he could. Whenever there was an opening, Donatello swung the broom at Leonardo, trying to buy him some time to get out. He swung the broom at Leonardo's feet, but he jumped and landed behind Donatello. He kicked him in the back, sending him to the floor. The broom slid out of reach. Toxis clapped.

"Leo: One. Donny: Zero," he announced.

Donatello moaned and pushed himself up. Leonardo put his foot on Donatello's back and pushed him back down.

"Make him suffer," Toxis hissed, his green eyes turning blood red.

Leonardo raised the sword and was about to bring it down, when someone grabbed his wrist. He looked over his shoulder. Amber eyes glared at him.

"I knew there was somethin' wrong with you," Raphael growled.

He snatched the sword out of Leonardo's hand and threw him to the side. He stumbled back, lost his balance and fell to the floor. Michelangelo, Casey and April ran into the apartment.

"Donny, you okay?" Michelangelo asked, helping Donatello to his feet.

"What happened?" April wanted to know.

Donatello looked over at Leonardo, who was now curled into a ball was clutching his head. Raphael handed Casey the sword and walked over to Leonardo. He knelt down.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" he asked, his voice soft.

"I lost control," Leonardo whimpered. "I lost control."

Casey, April and Michelangelo looked at Donatello for an explanation.

"Care to share your medical knowledge with us, Donny?" Raphael asked, without taking his eyes off Leonardo.

Donatello swallowed. Leonardo finally looked up, his eyes glistening with tears. Raphael looked to be on the verge of losing his own temper. His jaw was tight, like he was clenching his teeth.

"I couldn't stop it," he whispered in agony as he lowered his head. "I couldn't stop it."

"Couldn't stop what?" Casey asked.

"Young Leo here is sufferin' from schizophrenia," Raphael told the others. "And, I'm guessin', that's why he attacked Don."

Leonardo nodded in agreement. "I didn't mean to. Donny, I'm so sorry."

Donatello found it extremely difficult to speak. He wanted to tell his friend that it was fine, that he knew he couldn't stop himself. But, he also wanted to walk out the door and leave Leonardo in his misery. Not knowing what to do, he just settled for sitting on the couch and burying his face in his hands.

Raphael got to his feet. "Come on."

Leonardo looked up at him. "What?"

"We're taking you to the hospital."

He helped Leonardo to his feet and directed him towards the door. He turned to April, Casey and Michelangelo.

"Stay with Don and make sure he's okay," he instructed.

Raphael and Leonardo headed out of the apartment building and down to the waiting Vanquish. Raphael started the engine and headed towards Speedway General Hospital. It was on the other side of town, but it gave Raphael enough time to think of a way to make Bishop know that he was in serious trouble for messing with one of his students.

* * *

Let me know what you think.

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	15. The Unexpected

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed.

* * *

It had been a painfully quiet ride to the hospital. It was then accompanied with an equally painful wait in the emergency room. The room was packed. Some people were sick, others severely injured, and there were others, like Leonardo, who were there and they didn't want to be.

"Raph, is this really necessary?" Leonardo asked.

Raphael looked up from the car magazine that he had been reading for the past three hours and glanced at his student. It was the first time in two months that Leonardo had seen his instructor's eyes soften.

"I don't like being lied to, kid," Raphael said.

"When did I lie?" Leonardo wanted to know.

"Every time I asked you if you were okay," Raphael answered.

Leonardo looked down at the floor. He half expected Toxis or Maddy or say something, but they both kept quiet. Raphael sighed, closed the magazine and put it back on the table.

"Were you scared of something?" he continued.

"Would you be scared if your friends found out you heard voices?" Leonardo inquired.

"Did you think we would treat you differently if we knew you were schizophrenic?" Raphael asked. Leonardo didn't answer. "Did your friends back in New York know?"

"Trek did," Leonardo whispered.

"And did he treat you differently than when you first met?"

Leonardo tapped his fingertips together. "He did when he first found out. But, after a while, he treated me as if he never knew."

Raphael nodded. "Don't ya think it would have been better for everyone if you had told us sooner? Would've saved Donny from a near death experience."

Leonardo leaned over and buried his head in his hands. He still couldn't believe that he had almost killed his best friend. He just glad that Raphael had been there to stop him. Leonardo looked up when Raphael nudged him.

"What?"

"Let's go."

Raphael got to his feet and headed over to where a nurse was standing. Leonardo also stood up and followed Raphael. The nurse led them to a doctor's office and told them that someone would see them shortly. Leonardo instantly fell down into one of the chairs facing the doctor's desk. Raphael remained standing and examined the certificates that hung on the wall.

"I _really_don't want to be here, Raph," he announced.

"I don't care. You have to be here," Raphael told him.

"If you knew me at all you would know that I hate hospitals," Leonardo said.

"Most people do. But, sooner or later they end up in the place they hate the most," Raphael explained.

Leonardo turned his eyes to the floor. He really thought that Raphael was trying to tell him something. The dreams came more frequently and more and more pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. This was as good a time as any to ask the question that he had been waiting to ask.

"Raph?"

"Yeah?"

Leonardo swallowed hard. "Were you the driver of the truck that collided with my dad's car?"

It was like someone had pressed the mute button. Sound vanished from the room. A pencil would have dropped and no one would have heard it. Raphael slowly took his eyes off the wall and turned around to look at Leonardo. Summers held his breath.

_I said something wrong,_ he thought.

It looked like Raphael was having difficultly breathing. Before anyone could say a word, the door opened and the doctor walked in. The sound was turned back on and everything returned to normal, somewhat.

"Now, what can I do for you?" the doctor asked, sitting down behind his desk. He looked from Leonardo to Raphael.

"It ain't me this time, doc," Raphael said. "It's my friend."

The doctor turned back to Leonardo. "Aw, yes. Now, I remember. Leonardo 'Wave' Summers. That _is_ what they're calling you nowadays, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Leonardo answered.

"So, Mr. Summers, what can I do for you?"

Leonardo looked away. Raphael decided to step in.

"He's schizophrenic."

"Raph!"

"Really? I find that hard to believe," the doctor admitted.

"How so?" Raphael asked.

"He's not showing signs of schizophrenia, for one thing."

"Like, double personality? Hearing voices? Hallucinations?" Raphael guessed. "Since when could you hear what another person is hearing or seeing?"

_Maybe Toxis and Maddy finally got the hint and have decided to stay away,_ Leonardo thought hopefully.

"He almost killed someone," Raphael said, pointing to Leonardo.

"Raphael!" Leonardo shouted.

"I've known this kid for longer than anyone in this city," Raphael continued, ignoring his student. "I was the one who brought him here in the first place. I know him inside and out."

"You can shut up now, Pyro," Leonardo snapped.

Raphael looked down at him. Summers was trying hard to keep himself in the chair. Raphael smiled to himself. This was what he wanted. If he could trigger something, a voice, a hallucination, maybe then he could get his point across.

"Well, even if he _is_ schizophrenic, he's in very good control of it," the doctor noted.

"He wasn't two hours ago," Raphael said.

"Doesn't this guy ever shut up?"

Leonardo looked over to the second seat, which should have been empty, but was now occupied by Toxis. Horror flashed on Leonardo's face.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Summers?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah, Leo? Is something wrong?" Toxis asked.

"Shut up, Toxis," Maddy snapped.

"Why should I?" Toxis snapped back.

Leonardo covered his ears. Someone touched his shoulder and he jumped. Raphael stepped back.

"I want them gone," Leonardo moaned.

"Want who gone?" the doctor asked.

"Toxis and Maddy," Leonardo replied. "I want them gone."

"What? Why?" Toxis demanded.

"Because you've made my life a living nightmare. _That's_why," Leonardo yelled at him.

Raphael leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms. He looked at the doctor who stared at Leonardo.

"Well, doc?"

The doctor cleared his throat and fixed his tie. He shuffled some papers and looked at his schedule. He then looked up at Raphael.

"If it would be all right, I'd like to keep your friend in over night," he explained.

"Am I really that bad?" Leonardo asked.

"I'd like to get you started on the medication right away. I'd like to keep you in just in case it doesn't help or if something goes wrong."

"Something goes wrong?" Leonardo repeated.

"In case you have an unexpected reaction," Raphael put in.

"Oh."

Raphael patted him on the shoulder. "Well, I'll him in your trusted care, doc. I have some business to tend to."

"Of course," the doctor said.

Raphael patted Leonardo's shoulder again and headed for the door. "See ya tomorrow, kid."

The door closed. Leonardo felt his world shatter for the second time in two months.

* * *

Tyra pulled her long, silver hair back in a tight braid. A wig sat on the table next to the mirror. The brown hair was in a ponytail.

_I hope Wave enjoyed his drink, _Tyra thought as she pulled on her summer outfit.

The agents had two different uniforms. One was for Winter, with long sleeves and leggings, the other was for Summer, with a T-shirt and shorts. Tyra went back to the mirror and fixed her hair. Her eyes left the mirror for a couple of seconds. She didn't hear the door opening or notice someone come up behind her.

"You clean up nice for a rat," a deep voice whispered in her ear.

Tyra jumped and swung around, effectively slapping Raphael in the face with her hair.

"What do you want?" she spat.

"I want to know why you spiked Summers," Raphael said.

"What makes you think I spiked him?" Tyra asked.

Raphael leaned over and put his nose inches from her neck. Tyra felt her face burn. She took a quick, deep breath. Though he was only leaned over for a few quick seconds, it felt like an eternity before he straightened.

"You smell like Stockman's lab. You also smell like coconut, which is the same scent as the body butter that the girls at the beach side bar coat themselves in. And on top of all that, you smell like lemons."

Tyra growled under her breath, which made Raphael smirk. Tyra felt her face burn again. She hated it when he was right.

"Bishop put ya up to it?" Raphael asked.

"Who else could he ask? Summers knows almost all of the other agents," Tyra pointed out.

"What'd ya spike 'im with?" Raphael questioned.

"I don't ask questions. I just do what I'm told."

There was a short pause.

"Don't we all," Raphael muttered.

Tyra began the process of cleaning up her room. She had an apartment in the Watch Tower, compliments of Bishop. Raphael couldn't help but watch Tyra as she worked. Her skin was a golden tan and free from the flame tattoo. It was something that bothered everyone. Tyra was the only agent that didn't have the flame.

"You're Bishop's most loyal agent, yet he hasn't gifted you with the flame," Raphael spoke.

Tyra picked up some clothes off the floor. "Well, he must really like you. He's given it to you twice," she countered.

Raphael rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't want either of 'em," he told her.

"When did he give them to you?" Tyra quizzed.

Raphael shifted uncomfortably on his feet. This was a topic he didn't like discussing. But, he had brought it up so he had to answer.

"The first one was when I won the qualifier."

"And, that was the one on your arm, right?" Tyra guessed.

Raphael nodded. Tyra threw the clothes in the hamper.

"And the one on your neck?"

"I honestly don't remember."

"Really?"

"What I do remember is waking up face down on a lab table. There was also another table set up next to the one I was on. And, then the last thing I remember was the pain of a needle piercing my skin, and then nothing," Raphael explained.

Tyra played with a scarf that was now in her hands. She glanced up at her fellow agent. The words that were about to come out of her mouth would be the end of her if anyone else heard them.

"Do you think Bishop put something in the ink to make you forget?" she asked hesitantly.

Raphael stared her in disbelief. Those were the last words he had expected her to say. But, she had a point. There was no reason for Bishop not to wipe one of his agent's memory. Especially if said agent was quickly recovering their memory.

"I'm sure it's a possibility," Raphael replied. "But, I guess we'll never know."

He headed for the door. Tyra felt her stomach knot. She was about to do something she knew she was going to regret.

"Pyro?"

Raphael turned around. It happened so fast he barely had time to register it. But, in the split second that he turned around, Tyra was over to him and had quickly kissed him on the lips. She was then on the other side of the room before he realized what had just happened. Dazed and confused, Raphael left the Watch Tower. From her apartment window, Tyra watched as Raphael drove away. He was safe for another day.

* * *

What do you think? Worth continuing?

As always, reviews are welcome, but flames are useless, unless they're for toasting marshmallows.


	16. Fears Rising

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

* * *

The sun slowly sank behind the horizon, painting both the sky and ocean blood red. Raphael and Casey sat on the roof of their apartment building and watched the sunset.

"I think she's trying to tell you something, Raph," Casey joked.

"Shut up, Casey," Raphael snapped.

"Dude, she's been after you for months," Casey continued.

Raphael ran his fingers through his hair. He knew he was in trouble. Any kind of relationship between agents was forbidden.

"So, when are ya gonna tell Leo?" Casey asked, changing the subject.

"Tell Leo what?" Raphael answered.

"Your little secret," Casey said, tapping his friend's right arm.

Raphael looked down at the tattoo. "Why bother tellin' him somethin' he already knows?" he questioned.

"When did you tell 'im?"

"I didn't," Raphael said simply. "Leo's a smart kid. He figured it out on his own."

"Now, you're doubly screwed," Casey put in.

"Why?" Raphael wanted to know, taking a sip of water.

"Well, not only will Bishop have your head for the thing with Tyra..."

"There's nothin' goin' on with me and Tyra," Raphael cut in.

"But, now he's gonna think that ya spilled your guts to Leo."

Raphael tapped his fingers against the water bottle in his hands. Logic said that, technically, he wasn't trouble because there was nothing going on between him and Tyra, and he hadn't talked to Leonardo in little over a week. So, how could he be in trouble? But, on the other hand, Bishop had a nasty habit of finding stuff out. If he didn't already know, one of the other agents was bound to rat out the two top agents in the Watch Tower. And Bishop had the entire island wired, he could easily find out that Leonardo had knowledge of what was going on.

_Either way, I'm still screwed_, Raphael thought.

"Well, even if Bishop does find out, what's the worst he can do to you?" Casey asked.

Raphael glared at his friend. Jones had a point though. Bishop put all of his agents through the torture chamber at least once during their career. Raphael had been through that room three times, at the very least. What more could Bishop do to him, besides kill him.

"You don't know Bishop," Raphael said. "You might be called to haul out my dead body from the torture chamber."

Casey shuddered. "I still have nightmares about that place," he muttered. "Too many good kids go through those doors. Most of them never come out."

"At least not in the form they went in," Raphael added sullenly.

The two men stared at the red ocean. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Casey broke the silence.

"So, I take it you're_ not_ gonna tell Leo," he said in a soft voice.

"What good will it do, Case? Whether I tell him the truth or not he's gonna wind up down there anyway," Raphael explained, getting to his feet.

He walked away from the edge and ran his hand over his face, pausing to rub his eyes.

"Why does Bishop want Leo, again?" Casey asked.

Raphael shrugged. "I dunno. Who knows with that guy, anyway?"

Casey nodded in agreement. "True," he answered.

Raphael glanced down at his watch. "Well, I gotta go. I've got a drivin' lesson at seven."

Casey looked from his friend to the darkening sky then back again. "At night?"

"Duh, bonehead."

"Since when did you give lessons at night?" Casey asked.

"Since I first started teachin'?" Raphael replied. "Have you been livin' under a rock for the past eight years?"

Casey held his hands up in mock surrender and got to his feet. "My apologizes." He put his hands on the small of his back and leaned against his hands, effectively cracking a couple of bones. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your class, Mr. Pyro," he joked.

"If ya wanna join Mikey for the most whacks, keep talkin," Raphael threatened.

He headed for the stairs. Casey followed. The men made their way down to street level. Raphael got in his car and started the engine. Casey poked his head in through the passenger's side window.

"Can I be sentimental for a sec?" he asked.

"'Kay."

"In some ways you're like a son to me n' April. And, if you were I'd have given ya the whole 'Don't hang out with the wrong crowd' speech by now, even though it would be a waste of time and breath."

Raphael chuckled. "Yeah," he agreed.

"You're my best friend and I don't wanna see ya get hurt. At least, not anymore than ya already are," Casey explained. "So, try to stay on Bishop's good side."

There was a short silence. Raphael thought he saw a hint of fear in Casey's eyes. Something must've happened for Casey to be that scared.

"You know somethin' I don't?" Pyro whispered.

There was another silence. "Me n' April just don't want to see ya get thrown into the torture chamber. I don't think she can take another night of tryin' to keep ya alive. You almost didn't come back the last time."

* * *

Not my longest or strongest chapter. But, nonetheless, let me know what you think.

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	17. Cops

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

* * *

The worst thing about the torture chamber was that it was used way too often. Too many people went through there. When it wasn't used for torture, it doubled as a genetics lab. What happened to the experiments that went according to plan was only known by the scientists and Bishop, however, everyone knew that the experiments that went wrong were dumped into the Waste Lands and left to hunt down racers. The agents who guarded the chamber claimed they still heard screaming coming from the chamber and the cells, when in reality they were deathly silent. And it was for this reason that Tyra made her way to the chamber as if something was going to jump out at her.

_Get a grip,_ she told herself, easing herself into a more professional stance._ It's just your mind playing tricks on you._

She walked into the main chamber and headed over to where Bishop stood. As she got closer, Tyra noticed that there was someone sitting in a chair in front of Bishop. Then she realized that it was one of the racers that she had picked for the qualifier. The terrified man was strapped to the metal chair and was hooked up to some strange metal mussel.

"You wanted to see me, Agent Bishop?" Tyra asked, not taking her eyes off the man in the chair.

"As the lead weapons expert, I wanted to ask for your advice," Bishop said.

Tyra swallowed. _I just hope it's not advice on that mussel._

Bishop walked around to the back of the chair. "You've offered your opinion on a number of devices we use down here," he began.

The chained man looked up at Tyra, who stared at Bishop.

"So, I thought it was only fair for you to be the first agent to see the new containment device the lab has developed," Bishop continued.

"It doesn't look like anything special, sir," Tyra commented. "It just looks like a mussel made for humans."

"The secret is on the inside," Bishop told her.

He reached into his jacket pocket and took out a strangely shaped key. He then walked around to the front of the chair. The racer looked from Bishop to the key and then back again. His eyes were pleading Bishop not to proceed. Ignoring the silent pleads, Bishop placed the key into a hole in the mussel and began to turn. There was the sound of metal against bone, then, the racer began to scream. But, the metal around his mouth muffled the screams. Bishop pulled the key out and turned to Tyra.

"There are seven of these mussels in storage," he told her.

"Why so many?" Tyra asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"In case one is in prolonged use," Bishop answered. He looked down at the whimpering man in the chair. "My patience is running thin. I want Summers in this chamber by night fall." He turned to Tyra. "It will be your job to bring him here."

Tyra swallowed hard. "Sir, the last time you put me in charge of taking down Summers, most of the men I selected never came back."

Bishop handed her a key card. There was nothing special about the card. It just had a floor and room number. Bishop headed for the door.

"Nightfall, Tyra. And take down anyone that gets in your way. Even if it's another agent."

The door closed and Bishop was gone. As soon as the door was shut, Tyra unhooked the mussel. Without the key, she had to carefully maneuver the metal plates out of the racer's mouth.

"Thank you," he gasped.

"How long have you been down here?" Tyra asked, untying the ropes.

"Ever since Summers won the qualifier," the man answered, rubbing his wrists. He rolled his shoulders. "The others were the lucky ones. They didn't make it out of the Water Works in time."

Tyra examined the key card. Most of the floor were off limits to agents. She noticed the ex-racer staring at her.

"What?" she snapped.

"You're not actually gonna go through it, are you?" the man asked.

Tyra put the card in her vest pocket. "I have no other choice," she pointed out. "Besides, since when did you question Bishop?"

The man stood up and stretched. "Since he turned my friends into mindless foot soldiers."

Tyra blinked in confusion. "Come again?"

The racer walked around the chamber, trying to get circulation back in his legs. He didn't speak for a few minutes, which left Tyra to wonder what her employeer was up to. She was considered to be Bishop's most loyal agent, yet she always silently questioned his methods.

"Ya know that serum you spiked Summer with two weeks ago?"

"What about it?" Tyra wanted to know.

"That was a test run. It worked better than Bishop had thought. He's got Stockman makin' gallons of the stuff now. He's scrapped genetic research."

The chamber fell silent as the racer trailed off. Tyra stepped closer to him.

"Jason, what's Bishop planning?" she asked carefully.

Jason buried his face in his hands. "He's lost his mind. He kept going on about how the police weren't doing their job. How they were fools for shutting down his prison...did you know Bishop ran a prison?" he asked, looking at Tyra, who shook her head. "It explains a lot." Jason continued his pacing.

"What's he planning to do with the serum?" Tyra inquired.

"Make an army that surpasses the police, what else? He wants blood, Ty. Someone out there, in the real world, made Bishop mad enough to mess with people's minds."

Tyra looked down at the floor. "And to mess with people's lives," she added.

* * *

The street map popped up on screen, the route outlined in red. Leonardo pressed a button and locked the map on screen.

"I think it's only fair to warn you, Leo, I've been doing this a lot longer than you," Donatello said.

"You tellin' me I should be afraid of an overworked engineer?" Leonardo teased.

"I may be overworked, but I'm no push-over," Donatello warned.

From the side lines, Raphael and Michelangelo chuckled. They were listening to the conversation on a portable radio. The Ferrari and EVO began to rev.

"You sure you wanna go through with this?" Donatello asked. "I'll understand if you back out."

"Whatever, old timer. I'm no closer to backing out than you are," Leonardo announced.

"True," Donatello agreed.

The light turned green and the cars zoomed forward. A few seconds after they disappeared from view, Raphael's cell phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"I still want to know where the cops are," Leonardo said.

"What are cops in this city?" Michelangelo asked.

"Kid, just concentrate on the race," Raphael instructed. "We can discuss your never dyin' concerns when ya get back."

He slapped the phone shut and rolled his eyes. Michelangelo laughed. Meanwhile, Donatello had successfully pulled out in front of Leonardo.

"Who's the old timer, now?" he asked.

"You are," Leonardo answered. He hit nitro and shot past Donatello's car. "See you at the finish line."

* * *

Tyra swiped the key card through a panel beside a locked door on the fifteenth floor. There was *click* and the door unlocked. She opened the door and stepped into the room. It was empty save for a long conference table and a large screen on the far wall.

"Is someone here?" Tyra called.

When no one answered she walked further into the room. Papers were scattered over the table. She picked up a folder and began reading. It contained the same information Jason had given her in the chamber. Tyra came across a page with an unfamiliar symbol. The "JB" engulfed in flames was familiar, however it was in the middle of what looked to be a police badge.

"Can I help you?"

Tyra jumped and looked up. A police officer stood on the other side of the table. Tyra placed the file on the table and cleared her throat.

"Agent Bishop sent me up here. He didn't specify the reason," she explained.

"Don't worry, we know," the officer told her. "Very rarely we get called out, but when we do it's for somethin' bad."

Tyra nodded. "At least one of us knows what we're doing," she said. "Well, I'll leave you to get ready."

Tyra headed for the door. She had her hand on the door handle when the officer stopped her.

"Who's the target and when does Bishop want 'em?"

The agent tightened her grip on the handle. She wanted out. Her history with cops was a rough one.

"Leonardo Summers," she answered. "Bishop wants him by nightfall. He's usually hanging around Donatello O'Connell and Michelangelo Hall. And they're usually with April O'Neil and Casey Jones. So, find any one of those four and you find Summers."

And before another word was said, Tyra was out the door.

* * *

Let me know what you think. Worth continuing?

Reviews are always welcome, flames hold no value.


	18. Mikey's Story

Speedway was once again hit with racing fever. With every change of the traffic lights there were two or more cars involved in either a drag race or a race around the city. The most sought after racers were none other then Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo. They had become such close friends that everyone started calling them brothers. What started out as a name inside the group of six quickly turned into a city wide name. Of course, neither of them cared. They enjoyed being called brothers. Apart from Raphael who had Slick as a younger sibling and Donatello who had an older sister back home, Leonardo and Michelangelo were the only children in their families.

Michelangelo always said that Leonardo was the oldest, simply because he was the most level-headed of the group. Donatello argued that Raphael was clearly the oldest, obviously because he was twenty-five and the others were seventeen and eighteen. It didn't really matter who was oldest to Raphael and Leonardo, they just enjoyed watching the debates.

"Besides," Summers often said. "Who would want a crazy older brother, anyway?"

Leonardo tossed a pill into his mouth and gulped down half a glass of water. Raphael and Donatello were deep in a game of chess and Michelangelo was in the middle of a heated battle in one of his video games. There was at least one gaming system in each apartment, just in case Tiger came over. Leonardo finished the water and placed the glass in the dishwasher. There was a series of clicks and Donatello sat back with a triumphant smile on his face.

"Check mate," he announced.

"Why do I bother?" Raphael asked.

He knocked over his King and slumped in the seat. Donatello began placing the pieces back in their rightful places on the board. Raphael got to his feet and stretched.

"You're not playing?" Donatello asked, half way putting the white Knight back in place.

"I'm takin' a break. But, I'm sure Leo would be more than happy to play," Raphael explained.

Leonardo's eyes shot from Raphael to Donatello to the board, back to Donatello and then came to rest on Raphael. He shook his head.

"I don't do chess," he objected.

There was a strange sound from the TV and then "Game Over" music began to play. Michelangelo moaned. He tossed the controlled on to the floor and turned off the system.

"Stupid boss. I can never beat that guy," he grumbled, turning off the TV. But, then he turned his eyes to Leonardo and a smirk played with his lips. "Kinda like Donny."

Summers glared at his best friend. "What do you mean?"

Michelangelo forced himself to his feet and stretched his arms above his head. "Donny's like that boss. He's so many levels higher than you so he keeps beating you."

"I don't know if I should be honored or offended that you're referring to me as a video game character," Donatello put in.

Michelangelo turned to face his friends fully. "Be honored, my dear Einstein, for the boss of which I speak is the hardest one to beat."

Raphael and Leonardo looked at each other. Donatello blinked in confusion. He was used to people calling him Einstein. After all, it was his racing name. It was Michelangelo's talk of video game bosses that made him worried.

"Mikey, you're not making any sense," Leonardo said.

"People get to a boss and freak out because they know they're gonna lose. Try as they might they never figure out how to beat it. Young Donny here is like that boss," Tiger continued, patting Donatello's head.

Raphael rubbed his eyes. This was going to take a while. Luckily, his phone rang. He excused himself and left the apartment to answer the phone.

"Interesting words. Considering I'm older than you," Donatello pointed out, slapping Michelangelo's hand away.

"By a month. Anyway, Wave, is like the player who freaks out even though he hasn't played the game, whereas, Pyro is the player who tries and tries again and can never win," Michelangelo went on.

"Uh huh," Donatello muttered, finishing the set up. "So, Leo, wanna play?"

Leonardo glared at the engineer, but gave Michelangelo a quick glance. His blue eyes shone with amusement. Finally, Leonardo sighed in defeat.

"Alright, fine. You win." He shot the words at his surfer friend. "I'll try to beat the boss."

He made his way over to the couch and sat down. Donatello shifted into a more comfortable position on the floor and moved a pawn. While his friends were playing, Michelangelo snuck out of the apartment. Raphael seemed to be having an argument with someone on the phone. He suddenly slapped the phone shut and rubbed his eyes.

"It's your place. You don't have to stay out here," Michelangelo spoke.

Raphael turned around. He sighed as he looked into his friend's eyes. The crystal blue held a child's innocence. Raphael hated himself for ever turning that innocence over to Bishop.

"Bishop?" Michelangelo guessed.

"Who else?" Raphael replied.

He shoved the cell phone in his pocket and ran his hand down his face.

"What did he want?" Michelangelo wanted to know.

"Oh, the usual. Wantin' to know when I'd turn Leo in and accuse me of not doin' my job."

Michelangelo's eyes shifted around the hall. "Aren't you doing your job?" he quizzed, looking back at Pyro.

Raphael smiled and wrapped an arm around his former student's shoulders. "Don't worry yourself about my problems. 'Kay? I'll deal with Bishop. The only thing ya need to worry about is your games and races. Got it?"

"Got it," Michelangelo mumbled. "Just...be careful, okay, Raph? I know you can take care of yourself and all, but sometimes I'm afraid that you'll get yourself into something you can't get out of."

Raphael's eyes dimmed. "Mikey, don't go there."

Michelangelo wiped away the tears that were quickly filling his eyes. Without warning, he threw his arms around Raphael's chest and held on for dear life.

"Mikey..."

"I already lost one brother. I don't want to lose another one."

"Mikey, you're not gonna...oh, kid, why do ya do this to yourself?" Raphael asked.

"Because you keep forgetting," Michelangelo told him.

Inside, Leonardo backed away from the door. He turned to Donatello who just stared at the chess board, his eyes distant.

"What's he talking about, Donny?" Leonardo asked. "What happened to Mikey?"

After what seemed like hours, Donatello finally spoke.

"Not everyone wants to come here," he began. "Sure, we've thought about what it would be like. Living away from authority, being able to do what we wanted. It's every teenager's dream. But, then we think about the things that mean the most to us. And, for most people, it breaks their heart to think about leaving."

He began moving pieces around the board, as if playing against an invisible opponent. Leonardo's eyes drifted between the chess board and Donatello. He knew from experience that whenever Donatello told a story that was difficult to tell he would often fiddle with whatever was in his hands. Be it a wrench, pencil, coffee mug, or in this instance, chess pieces.

"Mikey wasn't always an only child," the engineer continued. "As you know he lived in Malibu until he was sixteen."

"Is that when he was brought here?" Leonardo asked.

Donatello nodded. "It was against his and Raph's will."

Leonardo sat down on the couch and leaned over. "What do you mean?"

Donatello moved a Knight. "Many times Raph would escape to the mainland to get away from this place."

"I don't blame him," Leonardo put in.

The older of the two moved a pawn. His actions were slow and deliberate. A heavy silence quickly fell. Leonardo tapped Donatello's wrist as he reached for the opposing team's bishop.

"Donny?"

"Raph already knew Mikey's family. Their parents were childhood friends. So, he always had a place to hide out. Mikey and his brother, Jeff, were always glad to see him. Raph meant fun, which was mostly staying up late on school nights, playing video games and sleeping in until one o'clock in the afternoon on weekends. Harmless stuff." Donatello continued his game against himself, the moves becoming more quick, which meant he was getting nervous. "Their parents also allowed Raph to take Mikey and Jeff out for rides in his car. He often took them to the movies or to get ice cream, or whatever they were in the mood for. Again, harmless."

Leonardo watched Donatello's hand hop from one chess piece to another. "Why am I getting the feeling that this is going to end badly?" he wondered out loud.

"They were driving back from the movie theatre when they ran into trouble. And, before you ask, it wasn't the cops," Donatello quickly added, causing Leonardo to close his mouth. "I'm sure you're familiar with street gangs, seeing is how you live in New York." Leonardo nodded. "A couple of them tried to run Raph off the road. Mikey told me the look on Raph's face said that he knew them. Raph told Mike and Jeff to keep their heads down and try to hang on as much as possible. A high speed chase soon followed."

Another silence that was only broken by the clicks from the pieces on the board. Leonardo looked at the door. He wondered where Raphael and Michelangelo were.

"It didn't end pretty," Donatello spoke.

Leonardo turned his attention back to his friend.

"One of the pursuers had a gun. A couple of gun shots later and the car spun out of control, both back tires blown out. When police and rescue crews got to the scene all that was left was a skeleton of Raph's car. While police searched Raph, Mike and Jeff were held in an abandoned house outside of town."

Leonardo suddenly grabbed Donatello's wrists, effectively bringing the chaotic game play to a halt.

"Donny, you gotta learn to stop talking with your hands."

He then noticed the position in which the pieces fell. On Donatello's side the king, queen and one pawn remained. On Leonardo's side the king and queen, five pawns, a rook and bishop remained. Summers looked down at Donatello's hands. He could feel them shaking in his own.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hall begged whoever had their sons and Raph to let them go. They would do anything, pay any ransom, all they wanted was the boys' safe return. But, the kidnappers would hear none of it. Apparently they _did _know Raph. According to records he put a few gang members behind bars after testifying in court."

"Come again?" Leonardo asked.

Donatello looked away. "He's an informant for the mainland police. He works for the police in almost half of the U.S. Besides his employer, he's one of the most feared men known by all street gangs. But, that's besides the point. While Jeff and Mike waited in their dark corner of the house, Raph was held in the basement. Mike can tell you horror stories of what went on in that place. Every time he hears a scream he jumps. 'I never want to hear another scream as long as I live'. That's what he told me the first time I met him." Donatello paused. "They were there for almost a month, wondering if they would ever see daylight again. Then, things got bad."

_The door burst open, making Michelangelo and Jeff jump. Three of their kidnappers walked into the room. The other two came in, dragging a half conscious Raphael between them. The two brothers tried not to make a sound. They were scared and they wanted to go home. Raphael was thrown roughly to the floor in front of the brothers. A whimper escaped Michelangelo's taped mouth. If these people could bring a person like Raphael down, what would they do to him and his brother?_

_One of the men walked over to Raphael, grabbed the back of his tattered shirt and pulled him up._

_"Isn't there something you want to tell them, Raph?" he asked. "Don't you want to tell them why they're here?"_

_"Don't," was all Raphael could manage to say._

_The man forced him back down and went over to the brothers. He took something out of his pocket._

_"It's a shame really. Your record was snow white. Now..." He pressed the object against the back of Michelangelo's head. "You're gonna have this boy's death on it."_

_The boy felt his heart drop when he realized he had a gun to his head. Raphael pushed himself up enough to see what was going on._

_"Jake, don't do it," he begged. "They have nothin' to do with this."_

_"Too late," Jake spat, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against his captive's head. "You made me suffer and I'm returning the favor."_

_Raphael pushed himself to his knees. "They're innocent!" he cried._

_Two of the men behind him grabbed his arms before he could make another move. Jake cocked the gun._

_"Do I look like I care?" he asked._

_"Please," Raphael begged. "I'm beggin' you. Leave them out of this."_

_Hot tears burned Michelangelo's eyes. He could feel Jeff shake beside him. When was this nightmare going to end? In the dim light, Michelangelo could see tears stream down Raphael's face._

_"Innocent," Raphael breathed. "They're innocent. They have nothin' to do with it."_

_The pressure of the gun eased away from Michelangelo's head. Jake pulled back and uncocked the firearm. Raphael's eyes darted from Michelangelo to Jake then to Jeff then back to Jake._

_"If you're gonna shoot anyone...aim that thing at me," Raphael said._

_"Either way, I'm still gonna have to kill the brats," Jake pointed out. "They could tell the cops everything."_

_"They'll keep their mouths shut. They won't tell."_

_Jeff and Michelangelo shook their heads. Jake patted their heads then walked over to Raphael. He leaned over so that they were at eye level._

_"I wish I could believe ya, Raph. I really do. But, the thing is, anyone who has been around you for a long period of time will start thinking like you. And, that's not a good thing. Secrets are what get people killed, Raphie-boy. You have too many of them, you begin to slip, mistakes are made, you get people killed, if not yourself." Jake straightened. "So, that leaves me with this, I put you out of my misery and then let the kids go, they, now being younger versions of you, go running to the cops, spill their guts, then land me and my boys back behind bars. I don't like that plan very much."_

_Raphael thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He had been in this situation many times before, but he never had any lives besides his own to worry about. _

_"What do you want?" he asked._

_"I want assurance that if I let anyone go, that I won't have cops on my tail," Jake explained. "And to remind you of what will happen if you_ do _squeal..."_

_He cocked the gun, turned around, and pulled the trigger._

* * *

What do you think? Worth continuing?

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless (as always).


	19. Busted

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

* * *

Leonardo was as stiff as a board. He had long since released Donatello and was now trying to remember how to breathe. His eyes drifted down to the chess board. A black pawn had taken out the white pawn. Only the white king and queen remained. The pieces suddenly held meaning. The white pawn had been Jeff, the king and queen, Raphael and Michelangelo. The black pawn stood for Jake and the other pawns were his crew. The representation of the bishop, rook and king and queen, though, were unclear.

_Jake and his crew walked out of the room. Raphael was on his hands and knees, his head bowed and his body shaking uncontrollably. If he hadn't been gagged, Michelangelo would have been screaming. Raphael managed to get himself under control and crawled over to the only living brother. He pulled the tape away from Michelangelo's mouth and untied the rope. As soon as his hands were free, Michelangelo began to pound his fists against Raphael's chest._

_"You let them kill him!" he screamed. "You let them kill him!"_

_Raphael didn't try to stop any of the punches. He deserved it. Michelangelo ceased his hitting and broke down into uncontrollable sobs. He buried his face in Raphael's chest. His wails were muffled by the fabric. Raphael wrapped his arms around Michelangelo._

_"I'm sorry, Mikey. I'm so sorry."_

_He couldn't bring himself to look down. He knew if he did he would lose it more than the boy in his arms. Raphael tightened his grip protectively around his friend as he heard heavy footsteps head up the stairs. He looked up, tears still streaming down his face. A man stood in the doorway. He wore a white shirt, black dress pants, a tie, and a long black coat. His cold eyes were hidden behind tinted glasses. _

_"I'll never forgive you for this," Raphael growled._

_"When have you ever forgiven me for anything?" the man asked._

_"You killed an innocent child!"_

_The man walked into the room and looked down at the survivors. Michelangelo had cried himself to sleep and Raphael wasn't far behind._

_"If you weren't an asset to me I would have had Jake kill you instead of the boy," the man said._

_"I told him to. I begged him," Raphael whispered._

_The man turned his eyes to Jeff's body. His face held no remorse, which made Raphael loathe him even more._

_"We are returning to Speedway in two hours time. You and the boy are going with us."_

_Raphael shook his head. "I won't let you take another life."_

_"His life ended when you came back," the man said._

_And with that said, he headed out of the room._

"Breathing is a good thing, Leo."

Leonardo jumped and let out a startled cry. He looked up to find Michelangelo smiling down at him. He was in complete contrast to the Michelangelo in the story. Donatello was quickly putting the chess board away. He was doing a very good job of keeping back tears.

"So, who won?" Michelangelo asked.

"Leo won," Donatello replied.

"You beat the boss? Nice."

"Thanks," Leonardo muttered. _It was a hollow_ _victory._He cleared his throat. "Uh...where's Raph?" he asked.

Michelangeo shrugged. "Gone for a walk, I think."

"Weren't you just out there with him?" Donatello asked.

"He told me to come inside when his phone started ringing again." He sat down on the couch and turned to Leonardo. "So, what happened for you go statue?"

"I was just thinking," Leonardo answered.

Michelangelo pretended to yawn. "Boring. You need to learn to think less," he commented.

"Nobody can stop thinking," Donatello put in. He slid the board underneath the coffee table and stood up.

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. He got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. Leonardo stood up and headed for the door.

"You leaving?" Donatello asked.

"I need some air," Leonardo answered.

He went into the hall and took out his cell phone. He flicked it open and dialed a number. As he listened to the rings, Leonardo made his way down to his car. He needed answers. The dreams were coming almost every night now and they offered nothing but questions. The only person who could answer those questions was Raphael. And right now, he wasn't answering. Leonardo slapped the phone shut and turned on the car. He was about to drive off when he heard Donatello and Michelangelo call out to him. Leonardo rolled down the passenger's side window.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I totally just had a brain storm," Michelangelo said.

"Uh huh."

"The three of us in a city wide race."

Leonardo glanced at Donatello, who could only offer a shrug. "Haven't we done that before?" he asked.

"Yeah, but you had a really bad car when we did it," Michelangelo pointed out. "Now that you have you're uber awesome car it'll be even better."

Summers shrugged. He didn't have anything better to do. "Alright. When do we start?" he asked.

"As soon as our cars get in front of yours," Michelangelo said.

* * *

The waiting was always the downside to the job. Just like the racers who dominated the Speedway streets, the cops lived for the high speed chases. Throughout the city there were ten to twenty cop cars hidden, waiting for any sign of their bounty. One of those cars, a ghost car, waited on the other side of the street opposite Raphael's apartment building. The two officers inside watched as Leonardo, Donatello and Michelangelo discussed something.

"That's our guy," the passenger of the ghost car announced. "Blue Ferrari, acquainted with O'Connell and Hall. What'd ya say we bring 'im in?"

"Not yet," the driver replied. "I want some action."

"When do we start?" they heard Leonardo ask.

"As soon as our cars get in front of yours," Michelangelo answered.

Donatello and Michelangelo jumped into their cars and drove off. Leonardo wasn't too far behind. The driver counted to ten, started the car, then headed off after the friends.

* * *

Leonardo tried to pullout in front of Michelangelo, but every time, he would block the path. Summers was getting annoyed and was about to hit nitro when he saw lights flashing in his rear-view mirror.

"What the?"

He looked over his shoulder, then swung back around. "Guys!"

"I see 'em," Michelangelo announced.

The boys picked up speed. The ghost car followed.

"I thought you said there was no such thing as cops!" Leonardo yelled.

"There wasn't," Donatello insisted.

"Then what do you call_ them_?" Leonardo shouted.

Up ahead sat a police road block. As if reading each other's minds, Donatello, Michelangelo and Leonardo hit nitro and shot forward. With some fancy driving they managed to swerve around the cars and keep going.

"I can't leave you three alone for two minutes, can I?"

"Raph?" Michelangelo asked.

"Who else?" Raphael asked back.

Meanwhile, Raphael's car appeared on the screens of every cop car in the city.

"Bishop wants you to take out Summers. He doesn't care if you have to take out any of the other drivers to do it," Tyra instructed.

"Works for me," the ghost car driver said.

He pulled up along side Donatello's car. He slammed into the side of the car, effectively causing Donatello to lose control and spin out. The others zoomed by.

"Donny!" Leonardo screamed.

Raphael looked back to see the police yanked Donatello from the car. He swung the Vanquish around and raced back towards the accident. He swung the car so that it was blocking most of the road. However, one or two cars still managed to get through.

"What's Raph doin'?" Michelangelo asked.

Still focused on the rear-view mirror, Leonardo unknowingly drove past Slick, the cops not too far behind. The move caused Slick's car to appear on the Most Wanted list. When he heard the sirens, Slick picked up speed. Back at the accident, Raphael was pulled out of the car and slammed across the hood.

"I never thought I'd be saying, 'You're under arrest' to one of Bishop's own," the officer said, slapping on the handcuffs.

Raphael could feel Donatello's eyes on him. Like Leonardo, he hadn't told O'Connell that he worked for Bishop. The friends were shoved into the back of a police cruiser. Meanwhile, Leonardo, Slick and Michelangelo were trying their best to out run the cops. More cars had joined the chase and it was getting heated.

"We've gotta ditch the cars," Slick said.

"And I know the perfect spot," Michelangelo repiled. "Follow me."

He took off into heavy traffic. Leonardo and Slick followed him with the police still hot on their trail.

* * *

What do you think?

Reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	20. In Hiding

Raphael and Donatello were shoved into a cell and were left to be processed. The hall echoed with the guards' footsteps then everything fell silent once the main door was slammed shut. Raphael maneuvered his arms out in front of him and sighed in relief as his shoulders slowly stopped aching.

"I take it you've had lots of practice," Donatello noted bitterly.

"What difference would it have made if I _had_ told you?" Raphael asked. "We'd still end up down here."

"How do you know?" Donatello snapped.

He stared at the cell door as if willing the thing to open. Raphael looked at the floor.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya sooner, Donny. Honest," he apologized.

Donatello turned and glared at him. "Why did you bring me here?" he asked.

Raphael blinked in confusion. "Come again?"

"Why did you bring me to Speedway in the first place?" Donatello repeated. "Like Leo, I have no use for racing. I'll do it if I have to, but I'd rather just sit on the sidelines and cheer everyone else on. So, why did you bring me here?"

Raphael knew he wasn't supposed to give up confidential information. But, everyone who set foot on Speedway Island deserved to know why they had been chosen.

"Remember, I just do what I'm told, no questions asked. I'm given the name and face of the person that's next on Bishop's list and I go out and find them."

"Great. So, what's Bishop's reason for wanting me?"

Raphael swallowed. "Your father owed Bishop...a lot. Take your pick, anything you can think of he owed John. Money, land, anything. He was so far in that Bishop was threatening to end his life. But, then, he gets wind of you. One of his lackeys that worked in your dad's garage told Bishop everything about you. So, he decided that the best way your dad could repay him..."

"Was to give him me," Donatello finished.

"Please note that your dad didn't give you up without a fight," Raphael added.

"Oh, don't worry. I remember. First the tear gas, then the door flew off the hinges, then you hit me in the back of head with some dull object. It was a fun night," Donatello said sarcastically.

Raphael couldn't help but smile. But, then it quickly faded. He really did ruin more lives than he wanted. His mind drifted to Michelangelo and Leonardo.

_I hope they managed to get away._

* * *

Five hours of searching yielded little to no results. The Elise, Ferrari and Audi had vanished without a trace. Bishop wasn't happy, and neither were the cops who were still searching. And the search finally took them to the Race Track. If the boys were anywhere, they would be here.

The club was as lively as ever. Even when two police officers walked in no one acknowledged them. While one officer went around to the tables, the other went to the bar. Three teenagers were sitting at the far end of the long table. The one on the right had bleach blonde hair, the one in the middle had dirty blonde hair, and the one on the left had red hair.

"Excuse me," the officer said.

The boys looked up.

"Can we help you?" the middle one asked.

"Yes. Have you seen either of these three racers?" the officer asked, holding up three photos.

"Tiger, Wave and Slick," the boy on the right noted.

"What did they do now?" the last teen wanted to know.

"Whatever it was they got someone mad enough to call the cops," the first teen pointed out.

"Have you seen either of them?" the officer asked again.

The boys shook their heads. The officer nodded, thanked them for their cooperation and left. While no one was looking, the boys slipped out through the back door. They didn't stop walking until they were inside an abandoned apartment building. They made their way inside to one of the rooms and locked the door.

"This is so wrong," Slick spat, yanking off the red haired wig.

Leonardo took off the dirty blonde wig and ran his fingers through his hair. He never knew wigs could be so uncomfortable.

"You look good as a red-head, Slick," Michelangelo commented, flopping down on the couch.

"How did I get dragged into this?" Slick asked. "How?"

Neither Michelangelo nor Leonardo answered. Slick pointed his finger accusingly at Leonardo.

"It was you," he said. "I know it was."

"How was I supposed to know they'd go after you just because I drove past you?" Leonardo asked.

Michelangelo slipped off his wig and tossed it on the back of the couch. "There's really no point in fighting. If we're gonna stay out of the cops' hands we've gotta work together."

"You're givin' me the teamwork speech, now? After what_ he_ did?"

"Shut up, Slick," Leonardo ordered. "The only reason any of us are still breathing is the fact that Raph slowed the cops down enough for us to get away."

Slick's expression suddenly changed. It went from loathing to concern in a split second.

"Raph's caught?" he whispered.

Summers and Hall nodded sadly. Slick sat down in a nearby chair.

"So, you do care about Raph," Leonardo said.

"He's my brother," Slick replied. "He may treat me like an infant, but I still care about him."

"The way you've acted around Raph didn't much of an impression that you cared," Leonardo explained.

"We're not the closest of siblings," Slick admitted. "But, I wouldn't wish_ this_ on him."

Leonardo pushed himself up on to the kitchen counter. "Just how bad are these cops?" he wanted to know.

"They're a one way ticket to the Waste Lands torture chamber. Do not pass 'Go', do not collect two hundred dollars. No 'Get out of jail free' cards can save you," Michelangelo announced.

Slick buried his face in his hands. The apartment fell silent. Leonardo rubbed his eyes. A headache was beginning to form.

_Well, Leo, this is it. This is where you make your last stand._

Leonardo's eyes shot open. It had been hours since he had last taken his medication and he was beginning to hear their voices again. And to make things worse, Raphael had the medication.

"Guys, I don't feel so good."

* * *

What do you think? Worth continuing?

I don't know why I keep asking. Anyway...reviews are welcome, flames are worthless.


	21. Caught

**A/N**: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed.

**Disclaimer**: See chapter one

* * *

Time had become a faceless entity. Seconds quickly became minutes, the minutes turned to hours, hours gave way to days, days drifted into weeks, and both groups hoped that they weren`t faced with months.

Leonardo spent most of his time locked in his room. Toxis and Maddy had returned and he was afraid he would lose it in front Michelangelo and Slick. He had quickly developed cabin fever and slept most of the days away. It had become dangerous to venture outside, even in disguise. Apparently someone had revealed their disguises. Slick also slept away the days, which left Michelangelo to roam around the abandoned building by himself. Meanwhile, deep within the sand dunes of the Waste Lands, cabin fever of a different sort had been discovered.

"I want want out," Donatello moaned.

"I wish I could say, 'You get used to it'," Raphael said. "But, this is one thing you never get used to. No matter how many times you're thrown in here."

Donatello looked at his former racing instructor. "Just how many have you been down here?" he asked.

"Two or three. Maybe more," Raphael told him.

"On what charges?"

Raphael shrugged. "Whatever Bishop wants to slam me with," he answered.

He shifted into a more comfortable position. Donatello wiggled around a bit until his arms were out in front of him. Raphael smiked.

"What?" Donatello inquired.

"You finally managed to master the trick," Raphael noted.

Donatello looked down at his hands. "My shoulders needed a break."

Raphael laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Donatello lay down on the floor, using his arms as a pillow and slowly fell asleep. It was the sound of echoing footsteps that brought both Donatello and Raphael out of their peaceful sleep.

"Now what?" Raphael growled.

The cell door opened and Bishop walked into the room. His eyes first fell on Raphael, who glared back at him. He then turned his gaze to Donatello.

"A shame a gifted person such as yourself has to endure someone else's fate," he apologized.

"Empty words, Bishop," Raphael spat.

"The person you're talking about is my father, isn't it?" Donatello asked.

"Sharing company secrets again, Raphael?"

"Whatever you want, take it and get out," Raphael ordered.

Suddenly, electricity shot through his body. He screamed in pain.

"Unfortunately, your time down here hasn't done much to silence your tongue," Bishop said. From behind his back, he held up a small remote. "Have you also forgotten about the implant?" He removed his thumb from the button.

Raphael gasped for air. He groaned and curled into a ball.

"What I want isn't here," Bishop informed his former agent. "Because _someone_ decided to play the hero."

"Whoever it was was smart," Raphael commented, pushing himself into a sitting position. "He kept you away from your main target."

"No matter. My men have complete control over the city. They'll find Summers and Hall."

And with that said, Bishop walked out of the cell. The door slammed shut and the prisoners were left in the dark once again.

* * *

"Leo, come out," Michelangelo pleaded.

"Go away, Mikey," Leonardo ordered.

"But, I'm bored! There's nothing to do."

"Come on, Leo," Maddy joined Michelangelo's whining. "We've been stuck inside for almost a month. We're going stercrazy."

"It's only been one month?" Leonardo asked.

Outside, Michelangelo frowned. "Leo, are you talkin' to yourself again?" he asked.

Leonardo buried his head under his pillow. "So what if I am?"

"They're not bad voices, are they?"

Leonardo looked towards the door. Maddy tapped his ghost-like fingers against the door handle.

"I agree with Mr. Do-Gooder over there," Toxis said. "There's nothin' to do in here."

Michelangelo moaned and headed for the living room. He collapsed on the couch, wincing as a spring stabbed him in the back. He moved around until he found a comfortable position. He then pulled up a pillow and lay down. The only thing anyone wanted to do nowadays was sleep. He was just closing his eyes when he heard a door open.

"Mikey?"

Michelangelo shot up. "Yeah, Leo?"

"You wanna go for a walk?" Leonardo asked.

Michelangelo was on his feet, in his new disguise and at the door before Leonardo could blink.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked.

"Me. I'm coming with you," Slick said, hurrying out of his room. He was also dressed in a new disguise and was in the process of pulling on his coat.

Leonardo pulled on a baseball cap and a jacket and followed his friends out of the apartment. After weeks of being cooped up inside it was a relief to get out into the fresh air. Michelangelo took a deep breath, as if cleansing his lungs of the stale air he had been breathing for the past four weeks.

"A guy could get used to this," he said, putting his hands behind his head.

Just then, a police car drove by. Leonardo, Michelangelo and Slick stopped short, fearing that they would get caught. However, the officers inside never gave them a second glance and kept driving. They breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's gonna take a while to get over this paranoia," Slick commented.

Leonardo felt his heart sink. Every day Slick reminded him of Raphael. Especially his voice. It was almost just as deep as his brother's, and it was a painful reminder of what had to happen for them to remain out of police hands.

Slick noticed Leonardo's sad expression. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Raph," Leonardo answered.

Michelangelo and Slick looked at each other.

"Not that I'm honored that you think that I'm my brother, but I'm not Raph," Slick pointed out.

Leonardo looked at him. "Oh. Right. Sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, Leo," Maddy tried to reassure him, patting his shoulder.

Toxis whacked him in the back of the head. "Stop lyin', Maddy. Nothin's gonna be okay."

Maddy crossed his arms in the same manner as Michelangelo. "I was trying to stay positive. But, okay, Mr. Ray of Sunshine, have it your way."

"Will you two shut up already?" Leonardo snapped.

The others didn't say anything. They had gotten used to their comrade's random outbursts. But, it still scared Michelangelo sometimes.

"Maddy and Toxis again?" the ex-surfer asked.

"He knows our names, how cute," Toxis said.

"Yes, Mikey. It's Maddy and Toxis. It's always them," Leonardo explained. "I've been hearing them every since I was a kid. It wasn't until I was twelve when I finally managed to block their voices out."

"But, now, it's gone overboard," Slick put in.

"You could put it that way," Leonardo agreed.

A few blocks away a ghost car sat watching the three friends. It inched closer every now and then, always getting closer to the most wanted racers on the island. Toxis heard the sound of a running engine and turned around. Lucky for him, he was invisible to everyone except Leonardo.

"Yo, Leo. We've got company," he announced, tapping his host on the shoulder.

Leonardo turned around and saw the car. His eyes widened when he saw the hidden lights on the dash.

"Uh...guys?"

"Show time."

Michelangelo and Slick turned around when they heard the roar of an engine. The car raced forward. Michelangelo let out a high pitched scream and took off. Leonardo and Slick weren't far behind. The passenger of the ghost car picked up the radio.

"This is unit one. We've located the targets. They're heading down Main Street."

The boys disappeared around a corner. Michelangelo looked over his shoulder.

"Did we lose 'em?" he asked. He bumped into a stationary Slick. "What's the hold-up?"

"_That_ is," Leonardo told him, pointing ahead.

Michelangelo looked over Slick's shoulder and saw the police block. He gulped. Most of the officers had guns pointed at them, which made Michelangelo freeze. The night of his brother's murder flashed in his head.

"Mikey, stay calm," Leonardo instructed.

"Never did like guns," Michelangelo muttered.

"Put your hands up and get down on the ground!" the police chief shouted.

Summers knew he was going to regret his next move. "Mikey, Don told me about what happened to Jeff," he said.

Michelangelo shot his crystal blue eyes at him. Leonardo didn't know if he was mad, ashamed, or simply just scared.

"Why'd he do that?" he demanded.

"Put your hands up and get down on the ground," the police chief ordered.

The friends did as they were told. Three officers hurried over and handcuffed them.

"I overheard you tell Raph how you already lost a brother and that you didn't want to lose another one," Leonardo confessed as they were pulled to their feet.

"Donny promised not to tell," Michelangelo growled as he was shoved into the back of a police car.

"It wasn't your fault."

Tears began to fill Michelangelo's eyes. He blinked them away and looked out the window. Slick and Leonardo were put in different cars, but the destination was the same.

"Well, Summers, looks like you're gonna keep that appointment with the Chamber after all," the chief said, slamming the door.

* * *

You know the drill.


	22. The Chamber

The silent chamber was woken up from its long sleep when the doors hissed open. Two agents walked to the middle of the room and began setting up one of Bishop's devices. It was two poles that were connected to a power source. The victim was chained to the poles via two metal clasps. It was a simpler version of the electric chair, minus the chair. When it was set up the agents informed their colleagues that it was ready for use.

As they made their way out of the chamber, two more agents walked in, dragging an unconscious prisoner between them. In a flurry of movements, they had the prisoner strapped to the poles and were out the door. A few minutes later, Bishop walked into the chamber. He made his way over to the prisoner and tapped him under the chin with a rod.

"Rise and shine, Raphael."

Raphael moaned as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. His eyes flickered open. He looked around, wondering where he was.

"You shouldn't need reminding of where you are," Bishop said. "You've been here before."

"Are you finally gonna kill me?" Raphael whispered.

Bishop smiled. "Though you have been difficult to control you are the most skilled agent I've ever employed."

"A simple 'yes' or 'no' would've been fine," Raphael said.

Bishop walked over to the place where the poles where connected. He carefully tapped it with the rob and was rewarded with a scream of pain. Bishop tapped the outlet again and the flow of electricity stopped. Raphael gasped for breath.

"I do not take betrayal lightly, Raphael," Bishop said, his voice hardening.

"I don't...know what...you're talkin' about," Raphael gasped.

Electricity pulsed through his body again and he screamed. It lasted ten seconds longer than the first time, but it felt like a lot longer. The pain stopped. He was now shaking uncontrollably.

"You know very well what I'm talking about," Bishop spat. "When you leak private information to those outside this tower or to another agent you become a traitor."

"I didn't tell anyone nothin'," Raphael insisted.

Bishop hit him in the back of the head with the rod. "The origin of the tattoo on your neck. The reason behind Summers' near death experience after_ you_ crashed into his father's truck."

"Leo figured that out on his own," Raphael said. "I never breathed a word of it to him."

Bishop hit the outlet again. Raphael was surprised his had enough energy to keep screaming. With each electrocution, Bishop kept it running ten seconds longer every time.

"If you want to save yourself thirty seconds of pain the next time I hit the switch, tell me the truth," Bishop threatened.

"I told Tyra about the flame, but that was it. Summers really did figure out the origin of the accident, I swear."

Bishop lightly touched the rod to the switch. After a few seconds of thought, he removed it and went over to a speaker that was embedded in the wall.

"Bring him in," he told someone on the other line.

A minute later, a secret door opened and two agents walked in. Raphael's eyes widened in horror when he saw that the person they had brought in was Michelangelo. One of the agents took off his head mask.

"You," Raphael growled.

Jake smiled. "Miss me?" he asked.

"You no good son of a..."

Bishop hit him in the back of the head with the rod before he could finish the sentence.

"Now, I believe that there is some unfinished business to take care of."

"Raph, what's going on?" Michelangelo asked.

"Yeah, Raph, what's going on?" Jake taunted.

Raphael remained silent. Jake shook his head. There was the sound of a gun being cocked. Michelangelo froze when he felt the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of his head.

"I was being merciful when I shot surfer boy's brother. I won't be so nice this time," Jake warned.

"Is there something you want to tell him?" Bishop asked.

"Nothin' that I can think of," Raphael said.

There was a gun shot.

* * *

_Two minutes earlier..._

"If this is what Bishop does to his friends I'd hate to see what he does to his enemies," Leonardo said.

Slick watched as Bishop tortured his brother. He finally saw what Raphael had been trying to protect him from. He suddenly felt like a jerk for ever thinking that Raphael was keeping him away from the most sought after job in the city.

"He was trying to protect me," Slick muttered.

Michelangelo was glad that the chamber was sound proof. He wouldn't be able to take the sound of Raphael screaming. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing that the chamber was equipped with a one way mirror. They could see everything that was going on, but Raphael couldn't see them. Did he even know that there _was_ a mirror? Suddenly, a speaker turned on and Bishop spoke.

"Bring him in."

Two masked agents grabbed Michelangelo and dragged him into the chamber. Being chained up, Leonardo and Slick were helpless to stop them.

"Bring him back!" Leonardo yelled.

"Yell all you want, Leo, they're not gonna listen to ya," Toxis said.

The door slammed shut. Leonardo and Slick watched as a silent exchange of words went back and forth between Raphael, Bishop and Jake, who now had his mask off.

"Jake works for Bishop?" Leonardo asked.

He thought he was going to have a heart attack when Jake put a gun to Michelangelo's head. The speaker turned on again, obviously switched on by the second agent.

"Is there something you want tell him?" they heard Bishop ask.

"Nothin' that I can think of," Raphael said.

Then both the chamber and the adjoining room rang with a gun shot.

* * *

Ain't I a stinker?

Let me know what you think.


	23. Casualties

**A/N**: Alas, I fear that this story is coming to its end.

* * *

April watched from the cab as Casey pushed another one of Bishop's twisted experiments out of the back of the truck. In her opinion he had the worst job imaginable. Whenever Bishop was finished with an experiment he would call Casey, who would then have to travel to the Chamber to pick up something that used to be a human. But, other times to was to take out the tortured remains of someone they used to know. Casey had been doing it for fifteen years and he still had nightmares.

"It's something you don't get used to," Casey and Raphael would always say.

April was brought out of her musings when Casey climbed back behind the wheel. Just as he closed the door the phone rang. Casey pressed a button on the computer screen.

"Jones."

"Your assistance is needed in the Chamber, Mr. Jones."

"Sir, I just came from there. All that was there was a weird creature," Casey explained.

"Things change, Mr. Jones," Bishop replied. "Be here in five minutes. And bring a body bag."

The line went dead. Casey and April looked at each other.

"Do you want me to drop you off at home?" Casey asked.

"No. I'm fine," April replied. "You'd better get going, otherwise you're going to be late."

Casey pulled on his seat belt and headed for the Chamber entrance. He had a feeling this was going to be worse than usual.

* * *

Casey walked into the Chamber with a body bag hanging over his shoulder. He had strictly told April to stay in the truck. Whatever waited for him in the Chamber she didn't need to see. Casey stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Raphael and Michelangelo both on the ground. He looked from Raphael to Michelangelo then back again. A whimper told him that Michelangelo was still alive, and the rise and fall of Raphael's chest indicated that he was unconscious but still breathing.

_Then, what..._

That's when Casey noticed the broken mirror. He went over to the hole where the mirror used to be and looked in. In the dim light he could see two bodies on the floor. He didn't know who they were because the top half of their bodies were hidden behind a piece of equipment. Casey managed to find the hidden door and walked into the room. The first person he saw was Slick. He was curled into a ball and was clutching his head. Casey knelt down and lightly touched him on the shoulder. Slick jumped.

"Whoa, Slick, calm down," Casey said.

"Is he gone?" Slick asked.

"You mean Bishop? Yeah, he's gone," Casey answered. "What happened?"

Slick didn't answer right away. He was trying extremely hard not to break down.

"Kid, what happened?" Casey repeated.

"It happened so fast," Slick mumbled. "We didn't know what to do."

Casey placed the bag on the floor and helped Slick to sit up. He was obviously in shock. Casey took off his coat and put it around Slick's shoulders.

"The last thing I remember was Raph sayin' somethin' like, 'Nothin' that I can think of'...then there was a gun shot."

Casey's gaze drifted to the second body. "Slick...don't tell me that's..."

"I heard the shot, then the glass exploded. I think I screamed. Both me and Leo dropped to the floor. I haven't heard anything from him since."

Casey crawled over to the second body. Sure enough, Leonardo was lying in a pool of red. Jones fell back. Slick began to sob.

"He's dead. Isn't he?" he asked.

Casey didn't know what to do. He wanted to go find Bishop and make him pay for doing such a thing. On the other hand, he didn't want to move. He heard footsteps and then someone gasped.

"Casey? What happened?"

Casey turned around. April stood in the doorway, staring at the scene before her. Casey got to his feet and went over to her, blocking her view of Leonardo's motionless body.

"April, I told you to wait in the truck," he said.

"What happened to Leo?" April asked. She pushed past Casey and hurried over to her friend. "What did that monster do?" she cried.

She went into doctor mode. Her hand fell up on the entry wound of the bullet. Through blinding tears, April pulled back Leonardo's jacket. Anger rose in her chest. What kind of monster did this to a child?

"April, there's nothing we can do," Casey said softly, wrapping his arms around April's shoulders.

April put her fingers to Leonardo's neck. "Alright, Casey," she said. "Let's get him out of here."

Casey picked Leonardo up in his arms and carried him over to the bag. Slick looked away as Casey placed Leonardo in the bag and closed it.

"Do you want us to give you a ride home?" April asked.

Slick shook his head. "I don't want to leave Raph and Mike," he whispered.

April gave him a quick kiss on the head and followed Casey out of the chamber. Once outside, Casey placed the bag in the back of the truck.

"Would it be okay if I stayed here with Leo?" April asked.

"Sure," Casey answered.

He started the car and drove off.

* * *

Bishop watched as Casey loaded the body bag into his truck. The bag was supposed to be destined for the furnace, but had different plans for it. And, if everything went as planned, his old partner was in for a rude awakening.

* * *

Let me know what you think.


	24. Epilogue

New York City hadn't changed much over the last few months. Granted, some lives had to be rearranged due to various circumstances, but other than that, it was pretty much the same. Which was good for tourists. And one of the main attractions was none other than the Statue of Liberty. And on a bright and sunny Friday afternoon, a family was enjoying a tour around the Statue. They were walking around the crown and enjoying the view, when one of the children noticed something down below.

"Mommy, someone's down there," the little boy announced.

"It's probably one of the security guards, honey," the mother replied.

"But, he's not moving," the boy added.

The father, mother and sister went to look.

"Jack, call security," the mother said. "I think someone's injured."

As the family of four rushed down the stairs, the father hurried off to find a guard. Meanwhile, his wife and kids went to check on the person they had just seen.

"Mommy, is he okay?" the girl asked.

"Kids, go back towards the base," the mother instructed.

The boy and girl did as they were told. Their mother, being a nurse, began examining the young man. He had light brown hair and his skin was a golden tan. The woman pulled back his jacket and saw that he had been shot and that it looked like someone had recently operated. She checked for a pulse and was rewarded with a faint, but steady beat. Just then, her husband returned with not only the island security, but also the paramedics.

"He's been shot," the mother told the paramedics. "But, he's still breathing. I think someone already took the bullet out. He's bandaged up."

A faint moan escaped the young man's throat.

"Son, can you hear me?" one of the paramedics asked.

Another moan answered him. The victim's eyes flickered open and gazed up at Lady Liberty with glazed, dark brown eyes.

"There he is," the man said. "Hey, buddy. Long time no see."

"You know him?" the father asked.

"I was on the response team that helped him after he was thrown from his car after an accident," the medic answered. He turned back to the wounded boy. "Hey, can you hear me?"

The victim turned his gaze toward the buzzing voice.

"That's it. Stay with me," the medic instructed. "Hey, Leo, welcome back to New York."

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

Maybe. I'm not sure yet. Depends on what the readers want.

Let me know what you think. If you want me to continue on with a sequel (I have one in mind), message me and let me know.


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